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MARGOT 


THE COURT SHOEMAKER’S CHILD 





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MARGOT 


THE COURT SHOEMAKER’S CHILD 

BY 

MILLICENT E. MANN 



ILLUSTRATED BY 

TROY AND MARGARET KINNEY 



CHICAGO 
A. C. McCLURG & CO. 
1901 


THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 
Two Cowta Received 

OCT. 21 1901 

COPVRIQHT ENTRY 

1^01 

CLASS CK XXc. No. 
/ ^5 rcf 
COPY B. 



Copyright 

By a. C. McCluug & Co. 

A.D. 1901 


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TO 


MY DAUGHTER GLADYS 



CONTENTS 


Chapter Page 

I. A Message from the King ii 

II. God’s Hand is Heavy 20 

III. The Departure 36 

IV. The Story of Louis de la Dantier ..... 43 

V. Babette’s Dream 55 

VI. Margot Dances the Gavot 64 

VII. The Token of Gratitude 76 

VIII. The Way of Captain Hezekiah Brown ... 80 

IX. To the Rescue 87 

X. New Amsterdam and Monsieur Desire d’Albert 97 

XI. A Cozy Kitchen 109 

XII. A Ramble in the Woods . 116 

XIII. In Kwasind’s Camp 124 

XIV. A Cobbler of Fort St-L 135 

XV. Little Majesty Two-Shoes 145 

XVI. Will no one take up an old Woman’s Cause . 156 

XVII. The Unexpected Arrival 163 

XVIII. I CARRY A Talisman 172 


Vlll 


CONTENTS 


Chapter Page 

XIX. Neptune 182 

XX. Meshinauvva 187 

XXI. Fairy Tales 194 

XXII. I Remember 203 

XXIII. Beauty should go Beautifully 21 1 

XXIV. The Death of Kwasind 218 

XXV. Margot again Dances the Gavot 225 



ILLUSTRATIONS 


Frontispiece page 

“ Let the child stay ” 26 

Repeated attempts at cuffing him 57 

They forgot everything 71 

“ I SHALL have to FEED HIM ” 93 


She walked all unconscious of their scrutiny . . . 117 

Angered the Chief so greatly that he started up . 126 


He fed her very deftly 150 

“Lost” 156 ^ 

Monsieur stood leaning 191 

“Hast ever heard any fairy tales?” ig6 ^ 


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1 


MARGOT 


Chapter I 

A MESSAGE FROM THE KING 

T was an evening in the year 1684. 
The brazen-throated bell of Notre- 
Dame rang out upon the still air. 
A door on the gallery of the second 
story of an old house fronting the 
Seine opened, and a child stepped forth. While 
she listened the noise of the bell ceased, after a 
louder and longer ding-dong. This last sound 
came back to her from over the roofs of the 
crowded city like tinkling music, until it grew so 
faint, it seemed to float away and lose itself in the 
mantling clouds. She shaded her eyes from the 
last rays of the setting sun, which were peeping 
over the airy mountains seen in the distance, and 
she looked down the Rue du Pont, one of the 
thoroughfares of Paris. The old house was of red 
plaster, its woodwork richly carved and ornamented, 
but it served to frame a picture fair to look upon, — 
indeed, a picture not unlike one of those beautiful 




MARGOT 


I 2 

creations in stained glass seen in the windows of 
cathedrals. The child was fair with a northern fair- 
ness. Long golden curls encircled a face of ex- 
quisite features, not the least of these being a pair 
of dark eyes. It was Margot Dander, the court 
shoemaker’s child. She had on a plain but rich 
frock of green taffeta, relieved from its extreme 
severity by a snowy collar and undersleeves of fine 
linen heavily trimmed with lace. It was narrow and 
short-waisted, as was then the fashion, in imitation 
of the older folk, and hung in long straight folds 
down to her ankles, whence peeped forth two tiny 
feet clad in white suede slippers. 

They were daintily shod feet, for was not Sieur 
Dander cordonnier to the Court of Louis XIV. of 
France And did not all the grande dames and 
fine gentlemen have him make their shoes } Sieur 
Dantier did not believe in the old saying, “ Shoe the 
horse and shoe the mare, but let the little brown 
colt go bare.” Not he, and Margot’s little boots 
were quite as dainty as Madame the Queen’s, only 
Madame the Queen did not know it, and it was 
perhaps just as well. 

The house in which Margot lived was one of 
those old houses that fronted on the Seine. They 
were occupied mostly by tradespeople on account 


A MESSAGE FROM THE KING 13 

of the facilities for traffic furnished’ by the river. Its 
pointed roof extended back and front over the gal- 
leries, like a Swiss chalet. The galleries, or balco- 
nies as we should call them, were propped up with 
piles ; in front they reached out into the Seine, 
and formed a covering in rainy weather for those 
going back and forth to get water for use in the 
house. In the back they extended over a well-worn 
footpath. 

Margot watched the crowds coming and going ; 
soldiers with military erectness, gay cavaliers on 
gayly bedecked horses, peasants who shuffied along 
in wooden sabots, and vassals bent and tired from 
the toil of the day. Even the beggar pulling his 
scanty rags more closely about him and shivering, 
did not escape her eyes. 

“ Mother ! ” cried Margot, returning hastily to the 
room where her mother sat; “Mother, there are 
two of the King’s soldiers coming up the steps. 
Hark! they are knocking.” 

And so it was. The sound came distinctly to 
them as one of the men pounded upon the street 
door with the hilt of his sword, crying: “ Open, in 
the name of the King.” 

Margot drew yet nearer her mother. The sol- 
diers were admitted and came up the stairs with 


14 MARGOT 

clanking steps into the sitting-room. Madame arose 
and greeted them. 

“ Madame, be not alarmed,” said one of the men ; 
“we have a message for Sieur Dantier from the 
King.” 

“ Sir, he is not here,” she replied ; “ I am expect- 
ing him every moment. I but now thought he was 
at Court.” 

“ Nay, I have but just come from thence. You 
will let him know as early as you can that ’t is the 
King’s pleasure he attend on him at once.” 

“ I will, most assuredly,” replied Madame, for from 
the faces of the men she knew that the King wished 
something other than the services of Sieur Dantier 
in the matter of shoes. 

The men bowed low, and courteously took their 
leave. They went down the long stairs, and on 
through the darkening hallway, for as yet the can- 
dles had not been lit in the sconces. They passed 
through the workroom, unaware that a slim figure 
glided like a wraith after them. It stopped them at 
the street door, saying : — 

“ Kind sirs, can you tell me what the King may 
want with my father?” 

“ Ah ! ” cried one of the men, who had started at 
the sound of the childish voice, “ ’t is Sieur Dantier’s 


A MESSAGE FROM THE KING 


15 

little Margot.” Then he bulged his cheeks out like 
puff-balls at her as he asked, “ What is it, child ? ” 
And Margot repeated her question : “ Canst tell 
me what the King may want with my father.? ” 

“ Dost think his Majesty tells all his secrets to 
his poor soldiers.? E’en his courtiers sweat and 
fume to understand his will, hey, Bertrand .? ” he said, 
with a wink at his comrade. 

“ I do not think it can be more bottines,” went on 
Margot, musingly; “for ’t is but a few days since 
my father sent many, many pairs to the fair ladies 
there.” 

“ Shoes,” he replied, drawing in his breath sharply, 
“ perhaps so. But bother not that little noddle of 
thine with the weighty matters of state. Perhaps 
’t is to present to thee a fine new gift,” he added, 
ruffling her long curls over her head teasingly. 

“ From the King.? Oh, no — ” 

“ I see,” he interrupted, “ thou hast not learned 
that he whom the King delighteth to honor is 
honored indeed.” 

“ Cease your teasing,” put in the one called Ber- 
trand, who had heretofore kept silent; “we must 
hence.” Turning to Margot, he said: “Child, we 
know nothing; only it is always well with those 
who bend graciously to the will of the King.” 


MARGOT 


i6 

“Yes, but there is a King above. Is naught to be 
made of His will ? ” 

“ There spoke the little Huguenot,” broke in the 
other soldier. “ Come on, Bertrand, you will come 
out of the small end of the horn by arguing with 
her.” 

“ Remember,” Bertrand stopped long enough to 
say, his face dark and set, “ remember. King Louis 
hath power over his subjects in the matter of life 
and death.” And the two men went out the door 
and into the street. 

Margot sat down upon one of the stools near the 
door, and rested her head upon her hands. 

“ ‘ In the matter of life and death,’ ” she repeated 
half aloud. “ My father hath read some time that 
He holds us all in the hollow of His hand, — King 
and subject alike, — I will not be afraid.” 

From where she sat she could hear the little sign 
creak in the slight evening breeze, doing its best to 
call the attention of passers-by to the trade of the 
house. It was a weather-stained sign, with a gilded 
shoe, and the words, Felix Dantier, Cordonnier, 
painted upon it. It hung at the side of the gallery 
from a stout iron bracket of filigree work. 

The room where Margot was, flooded by the wan- 
ing light which came in through its many high win- 


A MESSAGE FROM THE KING 


17 

dows, appeared bright in contrast to the murky 
hallway. The front of the room, above the wain- 
scoting, was of glass, in small diamond-shaped 
panes, making it as light as the galleries would 
permit. All the lower part of the house was used 
for the workroom, and no heavy machinery crowded 
it. Here the cobblers, with their worn leather 
aprons tied about them, bent their faces above 
their work. All day long they sat stitch, stitch, 
stitching, or peg, peg, pegging, handling dainty 
things with the deftness of women. Here were 
made by hand those high-heeled affairs worn by 
court beauties. 

The materials used were exquisite, and the mak- 
ing of shoes was different from what it is to-day — 
a day of ready-made shoes. Needles plied through 
the softest of velvets, glossiest of satins, and most 
pliable of suede. Sometimes they were sent to the 
convents to be embroidered by the nuns in gay 
colors, to be beaded, and even to be bespangled 
with jewels. When sent home in their scented 
boxes they were indeed things of beauty. 

Now the workroom, deserted save for the slim 
figure seated in the shadowy corner, looked bare and 
grimy. Benches were ranged along the walls, trays 
of cobblers’ tools and pails of water stood upon the 


MARGOT 


floor, piles of shoe models littered the corners, and 
strips of leather hung upon the walls. 

Margot Dantier’s parents were Huguenots, and 
she was their only child, now about ten years of age. 

She had always lived in this quaint old house, as 
had her ancestors before her. She was descended 
from the nobility, as the tiny coat-of-arms — a silver 
shield with fesse ’gules and three bezants — cut in 
the leaded panes of glass over the door of the 
sitting-room showed. 

Her grandfather had dropped the “ de ” from his 
name, and taken to trade. Thereby he amassed a 
fortune, which in time fell to Sieur Dantier, who 
was now at the head of the shoemaking trade in 
Paris. 

When this story opens King Louis XIV., well 
called “ the Magnificent,” had but just taken Ma- 
dame de Maintenon, a most ardent and devout 
Catholic, for his wife. This second marriage of 
their King made the Huguenots feel anxious ; still, 
they trusted in a King who seemed wholly rapt in 
luxury and in the Edict of Nantes. 

Perhaps you may not all know, who read this 
book, what the Edict of Nantes was. I shall tell 
you. It was a decree of Henri IV. of France, who 
reigned in the sixteenth century, that gave to his 


A MESSAGE FROM THE KING 


19 


Protestant subjects the right to exercise freedom in 
the matter of religion. It had seemed as if the fair 
flower of France’s nobility would be exterminated 
unless something were done. At that time murder, 
rapine, and fire were everywhere, whole families 
often being wiped out in one bloody fray. You see, 
there was some excuse for this quarrelling ; men 
could not be expected to change their religion as 
carelessly as they changed the styles of their hats, 
and that was about what was expected of them. As 
a result, men with their families fled from their 
homes, trusting in their God that He would lead 
them into some harbor of safety. The Edict of 
Nantes settled matters for the time being, and there 
was peace between the different factions. 


Chapter II 

GOD’S HAND IS HEAVY 

ACQUES came into the hallway to 
light the candles. He espied Mar- 
got seated in the workroom, with 
her eyes steadfastly fixed on some- 
thing outside of the window. 

“ Ah, little mistress, out here ? I thought thou 
wast with the Maman,” he said. 

“Nay, Jacques, I am thinking,” she replied. 

“ Thinking, ’em,” Jacques said, and then he 
smiled. 

“Yes. What dost mean, Jacques, when his 
Majesty sends two of his soldiers with a message 
for a person, say like my father, other than in the 
matter of shoes ? ” 

“ It might mean many things,” he replied eva- 
sively. 

“But what if he leaves a soldier outside, who 
walks back and forth like this ? ” And Margot got 
up and imitated the measured tread of a soldier on 
guard. 



GOD’S HAND IS HEAVY 21 

“ ’Em, I should say — I should say — ” he began 
slowly; “hast seen any such soldier about?” he 
finished quickly. 

“ Mine was the first question, Jacques.” 

“ Pardon, little mistress, I answer it. It were 
well for the person to be wary.” 

“ Thinkest thou the king would mean him 
harm.” 

“ That ’s as it may be,” he replied, cautiously, “but 
I should warn him nevertheless to be wary.” 

“Jacques, thou hast been with our family a long 
time, long before ever I was born, methinks,” said Mar- 
got, after a slight pause, “and thou art a Huguenot. 
’T is many years since the Huguenots had trouble 
with their Sovereign, is it not? And King Louis 
hath ever been kind to his subjects, no matter what 
their belief. Is it not so, my Jacques ? ” 

The old man nodded his head, as he muttered : — 

“ He hath ever been too busy pursuing the god 
of pleasure to care for aught else ; but now we shall 
see, — we shall see.” 

“What dost say, Jacques ? ” 

“ ’Em, sovereigns are too high and mighty for 
poor Jacques to understand their various ways. 
Hark to the little sign ; merrily it creaks in the 
evening breeze. Jacques can understand that.” 


22 


MARGOT 


“ Merrily? I but now thought it had a mournful 
.sound.” 

“ Mournful ! ” he looked at her sharply. “ Thou 
hast been listening to some heart-racking tales of 
the servants ; I have told Dame Babette many a 
time to cease her ugly tales.” 

“ Nay, I like them.” 

“ Thou mayst like them, but ’t is not good for an 
enfant like thee to listen to them so much,” he in- 
terrupted jealously. 

“But I like thine better, Jacques,” she said coax- 
ingly. “ Dost remember how I always preferred 
the workroom ? ” 

“ Do I remember ? ” he replied ; “ I should say ! 
Thou wast no more than two years of age when 
one day thou wast lost. Maman was weeping, 
Babette shrieking like a pig. Jacques said, ‘ Wait, I 
shall find her.’ Then I left them and went and 
looked into the workroom, emptied of the men, and 
dark as a pocket. There thou wast kneeling on 
the floor, playing ; sailing a shoe model in a pail of 
water for a boat. I crept away on tiptoe. I 
beckoned to them to come and led them to thee. 
‘There,’ I said to Babette, ‘ there, careless nurse, is 
thy nursling.’ With one shriek she pounced upon 
thee, and began scolding. But the Maman would 


GOD’S HAND IS HEAVY 23 

not have it. ‘ Nay, Babette,’ she said, ‘take her and 
put fresh clothes upon her.’ Thou wast a sight, 
smutched from thy curly head to thy tiny boots. 
Then Madame promised me that thou shouldst 
come at times to me in the workroom, and pleasant 
times have they been, my mistress.” 

“Yes, I do love the old workroom, and ’tis plea- 
sant to watch the men making the pretty bottines. 
But most of all I love to listen to thy stories, — 
always so many, and so merry, and always with the 
good ending.” 

“ There are more stored away here,” he said, 
touching his forehead with his finger, and his lips 
wide in a smile ; “ many more that thou shalt have 
for the asking. Now I must finish lighting the 
candles, else Madame will be after me. Look, 
the lights are all lit in the houses, and listen to the 
wind. A storm is coming up. There go the first 
heavy drops. It was on just such a night, muckily 
warm, the lightning flashing about, the big drops 
falling, that, ragged and barefooted, I stole out of 
the village of Rouen.” While speaking Jacques 
looked out of the window and he stopped. 

“Why dost stop, Jacques Thou wast going to 
tell me a story,” she said, disappointed, for the man 
had risen and was making as if to go away. 


24 


MARGOT 


“ So I will. Come to-morrow to the workroom 
at the resting bell. Here comes Sieur now.'’ 

“Oh, my father! ” cried Margot, running and 
throwing herself into her father’s arms ; “ I am so 
glad thou art come. I am so glad.” 

“ There, little one, dost not see Captain Maur- 
taille.?” 

“ What makes the little maid so glad to see her 
father especially to-night? ” said a hearty voice. 

“ Oh ! this is better and better,” Margot cried, 
and turning she greeted a tall distinguished looking 
man, dressed as one of the Guards of the Court 
in all its gay appurtenances. “ I am truly glad to 
see thee; now wilt thou send to the right about 
that soldier who walks up and down as though he 
guardeth my father’s house. I like it not.” 

“ ’T is even so,” said Sieur Dantier, who had 
walked to the window and looked out. “ His 
Majesty does not want any of his subjects to go 
out of his kingdom without his leave. You see, 
Captain Maurtaille, ’twill be no easy matter.” 

Captain Maurtaille did not answer, being entirely 
engrossed with Margot. 

“ ’Em,” growled Jacques, who had discovered the 
man while talking with Margot, and had been 
steadily looking at him. “ I know the fellow. 


GOD’S HAND IS HEAVY 25 

He ’s a cousin on my mother’s side. A fellow 
who loves his tankard well ; he ’s oftener in his 
cups than not. I will go out and speak to him.” 

“ Let him alone for the present,” said Captain 
Maurtaille ; “he is not the only one — I saw an- 
other at the south door. Hearken to the rain, 
how it pours ! When the fellow is thoroughly 
drenched, a tankard and an easy chair will have 
an even greater attraction for him,” he added with 
a cynical smile. After a pause, in which he seemed 
to thoroughly enjoy the drenched condition of the 
soldier, he went on : “ Come, let ’s to Madame. 
Time is pressing onward.” 

The Sieur ushered his guest up the stairs and 
into the sitting-room. It was a beautiful room, 
large and square, a mixture of the severe and ele- 
gant. Everything was massive, even the lintels and 
mantel-pieces were carved, and had been brought 
over from Italy years before. None of the frail furni- 
ture, which Paris was beginning to use so much, 
was to be seen. The large windows of many leaded 
panes of glass were hung with fine curtains of em- 
broidered silk, beneath which were the window 
seats of embossed leather in a dull red color. A 
door led out on to the gallery, at the top of which 
was a transom of glass, where glittered the coat of 


26 


MARGOT 


arms belonging to the family. At one side of the 
room stood an immense carved chest. It was used 
to hold the valuables of the household, whether 
furs, dresses, money, or jewels. High-backed chairs 
lined the walls, panelled in shining oak now black 
with age. The fireplace was of tiles, and shone 
with its brass andirons and fender. A number of 
fine paintings and a table of inlaid arabesque work 
completed the furnishings. 

After welcoming their friend, Madame told her 
husband of the message from the King. His only 
answer was, “ Yes, my dear, I know”; nor would 
he hear anything more about it until the evening 
meal was finished, the table cleared, and the chairs 
drawn about the lighted candles. 

Madame was hurrying Margot off to bed, for the 
message was knocking at her heart, foreboding 
trouble. She wished to talk with her husband, and 
also ask the advice of their guest, who, she knew, 
being stationed at Court, might be able to give 
some explanation concerning it. 

Her husband stopped her and said : — 

“ Let the child stay. There are going to be 
perilous times, and it is better she know it. Call 
Jacques and Babette also.” 

The old servants came at once and sat down 



» > 


“LET THE CHILD STAY 




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GOD’S HAND IS HEAVY 27 

near the door. Babette took up her cushion of 
lace work, and her lean old fingers, as they worked 
steadily at it, gleamed like polished ivory. 

Margot was very much pleased at being allowed to 
sit up and also to be admitted into the circle of serious 
talk. She brought her stool and sat down between 
the Captain and her father. There was evidently 
to be no conversation between Captain Maurtaille 
and herself about the court children and their pets, 
and she felt a wee bit disappointed. It was such 
fun to hear of the latest pranks and doings of the 
Dauphin and his friends. Her father himself never 
brought home any news from the court, saying. 
Their life is not ours.” He had never disapproved 
of Captain Maurtaille’s tales, however, and they were 
highly amusing and delightful to her. She thought 
what he had to tell to-night might be just as in- 
teresting, especially to a maiden with a long line 
of Huguenot ancestors, so she settled herself to 
listen. 

“ Is it perfectly safe } No eaves-droppers near.^^” 
first asked the captain, glancing suspiciously at the 
quiet figures seated near the door. 

Perfectly,” Sieur Dantier answered. Have no 
fear. Jacques and Babette are trusty servants. It 
is well they should know.” 


28 


MARGOT 


“ Before many days,” he went on and uncon- 
sciously lowered his voice, “ there will be trouble 
for the Huguenots.” 

“ Surely not, surely not. The King is friendly.” 

“ Oh, the King is friendly, when you clash not 
against his will. What the King meant to-day by 
those vague hints, which you understood not is 
this: Soon, it may be even now, the Edict of 
Nantes will be revoked, and Louis XIV. will sign 
the paper expelling from France all those who will 
not change their religion. How many will recant 
you best know by your own experience to-day.” 

“ The miserable King ! ” bitterly ejaculated Sieur 
Dantier, “ Well do I understand those honeyed words 
said with such graciousness, nevertheless hiding the 
threat. ‘ His pride in his artisans — hoped I would 
see things clearer — how it would pain him.’ ‘ Put 
not thy faith in Princes.’ ” 

“ What good is it to blame him ? He is in the 
hands of Madame his wife ; and ever near her are 
the Bishop of Bossuet and the wily Pere La Chaise. 
The wise man is he who will go before the storm 
breaks, and wait not until obstacles rise and prisons 
open.” 

“Yes, yes, thou art right,” Sieur Dantier replied, 
his face knitted in deep thought; “but where, and 


GOD^S HAND IS HEAVY 29 

how, with those men stationed outside ready to 
stop us at the first move we make ? ” 

Silence reigned in the room. The candles sput- 
tered, the wicks grew long and black, while the 
melted wax ran down into little pools on the table. 
Madame, in her anxiety, did not notice it, and 
Babette’s eyes were glued to her lace work. Her 
needles clicked evenly on, as if it were a great mat- 
ter that she point off nicely the litde corner of the 
lace leaf she was working. The clock ticked sol- 
emnly on, each tick-tack, seeming a protest against 
the driving of these good people from their home. 
A few moments passed thus, then Sieur Dantier 
spoke. 

I have a cousin in the New World,” he said ; 
“ he settled in an English colony. The place is 
called Maryland. He hath written me many times 
to come out to him, for he hath found great com- 
fort in tilling the virgin soil. The natives about 
him are peaceful. ’T is there we will go,” and his 
voice was raised enthusiastically ; “ there, where 
one may worship the Lord in one’s own way.” 

’T is said to be a long voyage by sea, often a 
dangerous one,” said Madame Dantier, in a tremb- 
ling voice. 

“We will trust in God’s goodness, though all else 


MARGOT 


30 

fail,” answered the Sieur. “ I will see what I can 
do about chartering passage on board a ship. ’T is 
a beautiful country, they say,” he added musingly. 

“Yes, no doubt ’t is a good, fruitful country,” re- 
plied the Captain, “ and I can help you about getting 
there. It must be done at once. But first we must 
get rid of that cousin of our good Jacques here.” 
Turning to Jacques, he said: “ Do you think he is 
wet enough to enjoy a pot of mulled ale by now.f^” 

Jacques nodded, and he continued, “ Let him think 
’t is as easy watching inside as outside.^’ 

“ He ’ll not hold out long against my persuasion,” 
replied Jacques. 

“ And while you brew the ale, add this sleeping 
potion,” said the Captain, handing him a small 
phial. 

“ Nay, no violence,” said Sieur Dan tier, as Jacques 
went softly out of the room, intent on his errand. 

“ Tut, my friend, ’t will but rest him a bit. Now, 
listen to this plan : Yesterday I met by chance, a 
lucky chance as it turns out, an old friend of mine, 
a sea captain, Hezekiah Brown by name. He hails 
from one of the ports of America called Boston, 
and is trading here with skins and tobacco. His 
ship lies at Havre. ’Tis not every day an English 
ship anchors in our port. But now is one of those 


GOD’S HAND IS HEAVY 31 

times of rare amiability between France and Eng- 
land, — a lull before the storm, — which we shall 
take advantage of.” 

“ I see. To-morrow — ” 

“ To-night, man, to-night ! To-morrow may be 
too late ! ” he interrupted him hastily. 

“ I cannot go to-night. I must see my friends at 
the Mercer’s Guild, and give some warning of this 
impending trouble.” 

“ I think you are rash not to leave to-night.” 

“ I could not, I could not, my friend,” he said 
earnestly, laying his hand on Captain Maurtaille’s 
shoulder; “ I would never forgive myself, if I went 
like a coward to save my own skin, and left my 
poor friends in this peril.” 

“ Then let Madame take the little maid and go, 
waiting for you on the way. A few miles from 
Havre there stands a hut belonging to me. It is 
a ramshackle place on my estate of D’oen, but it 
is vacant. They could stay at the castle if it were 
habitable. Still the hut will do. There they can 
await you and be safe. If you should happen to be 
belated, they can go on at the expiration of two days 
and go aboard the ‘ Willing Bark’ — ’t is the name 
of the ship — ” Here he gave a minute description 
of the hut and how easiest to reach it. 


32 


MARGOT 


“Yes, that will be best,” said Sieur Dantier. “ It 
will give me time to fix up my affairs a bit before 
leaving. Thou canst get ready in a few hours, dear 
wife, and go with the child ? ” 

“ My place is at thy side. I will abide thy go- 
ing,” said Madame. 

“ Then we will all wait — I cannot go to-night,” 
said her husband. 

Captain Maurtaille merely shrugged his broad 
shoulders, and said: — 

“ The child ought to be sent on ahead, to-night. 
I would take her myself, only I am on duty to-mor- 
row, keeping the door at the King’s bed chamber. 
You will be handicapped enough if trouble arises, 
without the care of a child.” 

They had been so intent in their talk that they 
had not noticed the old nurse, who had risen and 
walked over to the table. She leaned her hand 
lightly on the back of Madame’s chair, as she said : 
“ Talk no more about that ; I will take her. Think- 
est thou, dear Madame, at my time of life, I should 
be separated from my babe.^ I will take her. 
What I can do, I will do.” 

“ Ah, Babette ! exclaimed Madame, putting her 
arms about the old dame’s neck, while now the tears 
stood in her eyes. 


GOD’S HAND IS HEAVY 33 

“Truly you are a good woman,” said the Captain; 
“ and I am glad that it is so arranged.” 

Margot had been listening with eyes that had 
grown big and bigger with astonishment, and she 
could keep silent no longer. 

“ Must we go and leave La belle Fra^ice, my 
father,” she said, “our dear old home, and all our 
friends How strange it will seem!” 

“ Alas, yes,” he answered. 

“ But be of good cheer; no doubt you will find 
much to interest you there,” said Captain Maurtaille 
absently, as he looked from the window. “ I see that 
Jacques has been as good as his word, and his cou- 
sin, no doubt, is now snoring in the kitchen. So, 
my friends, I will go and get a caleche, and wait 
round the corner by the tannery. In an hour, my 
good woman, be there with the child.” 

He would not listen to a word of thanks from 
either Sieur Dantier or his wife, saying : “ I have 
done what I could for love of this little maiden and 
all who bear the name of Dantier. Pray God it be 
for the best. Again I caution you to be discreet. 
And now, adieu.” He went quietly out of the room. 
All formalities were forgotten, as they sat in a 
stunned silence, listening to his departing footsteps, 
which echoed down the stairs, out of the door, and 


3 


34 


MARGOT 


into the street, where they finally died away, lost in 
the tumult below. 

Now within all was hurry, one hardly knew what 
to do first. When Madame and Babette had gone 
from the room intent upon some errand, Sieur Dan- 
tier who had kept a quiet face until they had gone, 
clasped his hands over his forehead and laid his face 
down on the table in most gloomy thoughts. Break- 
ing up the associations of a lifetime was no easy 
task ; and, then, what dangers might attend such a 
move ! 

Margot, seeing her father’s sadness, went to him 
and clasped her arms around his neck. 

“ Do not be so sad at leaving our home,” she 
said. “ We will be safe and happy, I am sure, in that 
wonderful country. ’T is good there are no kings 
there.” 

“ Ah, my child, thou dost not know the hardships 
attending such a move,” he answered with a sigh. 

“ His Majesty is a wicked king to treat his good 
subjects so.” 

“ There, child, of what avail to be angry ? It is 
the inevitable ! Better were it to ask the help of 
our heavenly Father.” 

Then Sieur, with Margot kneeling by his side, 
offered up a fervent prayer to the Father above to 


GOD’S HAND IS HEAVY 


35 

lift the hand of oppression from them, and guard 
his dear ones from all evil. 

Rising from his knees, he was once more himself, 
energetic and willing, no task too difficult for him 
to undertake. 


Chapter III 


THE DEPARTURE 

HE caleche with Jacques on the driv- 
ing seat, waited at the corner ere the 
hour had struck midnight. 

In the out-kitchen, a soldier, who 
no doubt to-rnorrow would have a 
breach of duty to expiate, slept, all unconscious that 
one bird was fleeing. 

By the workroom door, which led out into the 
street a group of anxious-eyed people stood. Mar- 
got clung to her mother’s hand, who was talking in 
a low voice to her. Sieur Dantier looked from the 
window to see that there was no one in sight. Old 
Babette, usually prim and slight, was stiff and 
pompous with responsibility. She made a curiously 
bulky figure, that she looked like a marionette in a 
show, and Margot found herself smiling through 
her tears, whenever she glanced at her. Her cor- 
pulency was due to the stuffed condition of her 
pockets — stuffed with the many letters and greet- 



THE DEPARTURE 


37 

ings to the cousins in the New World, and extra 
clothing, which she had put on as the easier way 
of carrying them. She had been firm in her resolu- 
tion of clinging to her early friends, and Sieur and 
Madame Dantier were only too glad to accept her 
services. 

Gratitude, than which there is no virtue more to 
be admired, was firmly imbedded in the old dame’s 
nature. 

Few were the words spoken, for there was a great 
fear over them all lest the absence of the soldier 
become known to the one stationed at the south 
door. 

“ I give my child into thy keeping,” in a low voice 
said Sieur to Babette ; “ God so deal with thee as 
thou guardest her, till we meet again. Please God 
it be soon.” To his child he whispered : “ Be thou 
good and brave, remember that the Lord God 
Jehovah watcheth over thee.” And he gave her into 
her mother’s arms for another embrace. 

At last the light was extinguished, the door 
quickly opened and as quickly shut and they were 
gone. 

''Mon Dieu!'' exclaimed Madame, weeping bit- 
terly, “ I wish I had kept her until we also could go, 
I feel as if I might never see her again.” 


38 


MARGOT 


“ Tut, tut, wife, ’t will be as God wills. This is 
no time for idle brooding or vain regrets.” And 
Sieur Dantier vigorously blew his nose, and there 
was a suspicion of tears in his eyes. Perhaps there 
was the same wish in his heart, — that he too had 
not let her go. 

Margot clung to Babette’s hand, while they 
walked briskly to the corner where the caleche w^as 
waiting. This was a vacant spot, whereon stood a 
shanty. Here the hides used by Sieur Dantier in 
his business were cured. In the shadow of this 
shanty Captain Maurtaille waited. He hurried 
silently forward when he saw them coming, and 
quickly put Babette into the conveyance, her many 
skirts fluttering around her like a balloon. He took 
Margot in his arms saying: “Dear child, adieu. 
May we meet in happier days,” and putting her 
tenderly in beside Babette, he shut the door, and 
motioned to Jacques to go on. 

Then the caleche with its occupants went flying 
over the cobblestones of Paris. Amid the tears, 
which gradually ceased flowing, Margot watched the 
fast disappearing city; silhouetted houses and trees 
against the sky looked cheerless enough through the 
rain and dark. Babette, being a wise woman, left 
her to herself until the weeping had entirely ceased 


THE DEPARTURE 


39 

and a brighter look had come into her tear-stained 
face. 

They rode on in silence for quite a while, each one 
occupied with her own thoughts. Margot went to 
put her handkerchief into the reticule which hung 
by her side, and in doing so her hand hit against 
something hard. Immediately her thoughts were 
turned into a new channel. 

She pulled from her reticule a small package done 
up in a velvet cloth. When she had unwrapped 
this, and brought it close under the dim rays of 
the carriage lamp, it proved to be a miniature. 
Such a dainty miniature ! framed about with a 
twisted band of gold, where diamonds glittered. 
Margot looked earnestly at it, turning it now this 
way and now that, trying to get a good light upon it. 

Babette’s brow had a deep wrinkle across it. 
She was thinking of a village miles and miles 
away, nestled among the vineclad hills of the south 
of France. She was looking through the long vista 
of many years. She saw herself a lass again, who, 
together with the neighboring lads and lasses gath- 
ered the purple grapes and carried them to the big 
bins, there to have their juice pressed out by the 
dancing of many feet. 

A sudden jolting of the caleche as one wheel 


40 


MARGOT 


went down into a deep rut, made them feel in 
imminent danger of being thrown out upon the 
muddy road. Margot uttered a startled cry, for 
her miniature had been almost jerked from her 
hand. Crack, crack went the long lash of Jacques’ 
whip, curling about his horses’ heads, and the 
caleche was righted. 

'^Sapristi! What hast thou there?” asked Ba- 
bette, her dreams scattered. “ My, my ! It surely 
is not that little miniature thy mother values so 
highly, and hath always kept in the big drawer in 
her carved chest ? How didst thou come by it ? 
Margot kept nodding her head in a knowing way, 
while Babette was speaking. 

“ Yes, it is mine.” 

“ Thine, child ? What can thy mother mean by 
giving a child like thee such a handsome thing ? 
Thou hadst better let me have it to take care of for 
thee. I can put it in the case with the other jewels.” 

“ No, Babette, I mean to take care of it myself. 
I shall be very careful not to scratch it. I have 
this velvet bag to carry it in. I ’m so proud of it.” 
And she looked lovingly at the costly gift. 

“And well thou mayst be proud of it,” said Babette, 
letting the light play upon the stones till they spar- 
kled a million colors. “ They are beautiful stones ! ” 


THE DEPARTURE 


41 


“ Like a rainbow cut up into little bits, are they 
not ? ’T is not on account of the pretty stones, 
though, I value it so much, but of the pictured face 
they encircle.” 

“ Pretty enough,” said she, her eyes still glued to 
the shining diamonds. “ But thou hast not told 
me how the Maman came to give it to thee ? ” 

“ Maman was so sad, so sad, when taking out the 
clothes I was to wear. As she lifted out the drawer 
to get something from the bottom part I saw the 
miniature and took it to look at for a minute. I 
did not dream it would soon be mine ! Then 
Maman said, ‘ Margot, thou rememberest the story 
of the child whose face is portrayed there ? ’ I told 
her that I did indeed, almost every word. Then 
she said, ‘ Thou art not a child that cares for dolls, 
or gewgaws, or things of that kind, so thou shalt 
have something that shall help thee, and also be a 
keepsake from. thy old home. Thou shalt have the 
miniature of Louis de la Dantier. Keep it if thou 
canst, but if aught happen to it — for ’tis a costly 
thing for a child to have — it will not matter, only 
if thou hath the pictured face and its story in thy 
heart. Remember there has never been a Dantier 
that was not proud to bear all the trials God put 
upon him.’ So Maman spake and, putting the 


MARGOT 


42 

miniature securely in its velvet bag, she gave it to 
me.” 

“ Dost think I look like him.^^ ” she asked after 
a slight pause. 

The picture was indeed like her — the portrait of 
a young lad painted upon porcelain. It showed 
the same big brown eyes, looking out into the 
world with a questioning gaze, the same straight 
nose, the same bowed lips and mass of curling hair, 
only in the picture the hair was worn short about 
the neck, whereas Margot’s hung down to her waist. 

“ Thou art the image of him ; indeed, I ’d say ’t wai 
thine own face, if it were not for this long hair,” an- 
swered Babette, taking up a long curl. 

“ Yes,” said Margot, flinging back the hair from 
her face, “ I am glad my mother gave it to me, 
Thou see’st he was not an ordinary boy ; he saved 
a number of people from a horrible death. He 
hath a story,” she added, in the most solemn way. 
“ Shall I tell it to thee, Babette } ” 

“ Yes, child,” she answered, as she kissed the 
eager face raised to hers. “ I ’m sure he hath a 
sweet look. ’T is a pity that thou wast not a boy. 
Girls are but tender blossoms from the parent plant, 
whilst boys are hardy sprigs.” 


Chapter IV 

THE STORY OF LOUIS DE LA DANTIER 

NCE upon a time, — 't is said all old 



stories begin that way, Babette, — 
there lived on the outskirts of Paris 
a young lad. His name was Louis 
de la Dantier. On a hot day in Au- 


gust in the year of our Lord 1572, he was sent on 
an errand to the home of relatives in Paris, with 
only a young waiting lad as his companion. There 
was no one else to send with him, as all the armed 
retainers of the household had gone with his father 
to Mayenne. Thou knowest, Babette, in those 
olden days every man’s house was a fortress, and 
armed men were kept to protect its inhabitants in 
case of quarrels between different factions. It 
seemeth strange ' to me that people must needs 
quarrel so, Babette, does it not to thee ? ” she 
stopped her story to ask. 

“ ’T is because they are so wicked, so wicked. 
They will never learn to do as the good Jesus said : 




MARGOT 


44 

‘ Whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, 
turn to him the other also.’ But go on with thy 
story.” 

“ The times were now peaceful ; everything was 
quiet between the Huguenots and the Catholics. 
Henry of Navarre, a Protestant, had but just mar- 
ried Margaret, the King’s sister. Catherine de 
Medici, the Queen mother, had seemed lately to 
favor Protestantism, so that even Admiral Coligny, 
the Huguenot leader, feared nothing, and was in 
the city. Louis arrived at the house of his friends 
and, his errand over, was asked to spend the night 
with the young people. He was only too glad to 
do so, for, with the exception of Madame and a few 
servants, they were all alone in the big house, and 
he knew they would have great fun frolicking. He 
sent a message by the boy to his mother, telling her 
that he should be home on the morrow. In the 
midst of their play one of the older children called 
the attention of the others to the sunset. It was 
beautiful but awesome ! A flood of crimson glory ! 
The children were covered with its rays as if they 
were bathed in blood. ’T was said afterwards that 
it was a warning sent by God — a warning, but of 
what they knew not as yet — being too easy and 
confident in themselves and their King. The chil- 


STORY OF DE LA DANTIER 45 

dren, somewhat subdued, went tired to bed. The 
city seemed to Louis like one of those monster ant 
hills he had oft kicked over, so quiet on the outside 
but swarming with busy workers inside. He could 
not shut his eyes. How many hours he spent thus 
trying to get to sleep he knew not. All on a sudden 
he heard a shot fired, then the pealing of a bell. It 
was the bell of St. Germain L’Auxerrois, that rang 
in the Massacre of St. Bartholomew. He jumped 
up and tiptoed to the window. He looked out. 
The streets were thronged with men. He saw the 
soldiers under the Duke de Guise surrounding the 
house of Admiral Coligny, only a few doors away. 
The many links held by armed men flamed up and 
threw out lurid gleams. He could even see from 
where he was the face of the Duke de Guise in all its 
terrible beauty. Its horrible fascination held Louis 
until, hearing a terrific shout, he knew that Admiral 
Coligny was no more.” 

“And then died a mighty leader,” interrupted 
Babette. “It seemeth to me as if they were ever 
killing one another, those people, then.” 

“Yes, it was long years before a ruler in France 
died a natural death, so my mother hath told 
me. It was the work of an instant for Louis to 
slip on his clothes and arouse Madame. They 


MARGOT 


46 

dared not even let the servants know, lest there be 
a spy among them. When Madame saw the crowd 
of hostile men, a very rabble of bloodthirsty crea- 
tures, she knew they were in great danger. Silently 
they crept down the long, broad stairs, terrible in 
their black gloom, save when the glare from some 
nearby torch came in through the many windows 
and lit up its interior. Then the girls, cowering, 
shrank nearer their mother, and the eldest boy mus- 
tered up courage to say : ‘ Hasten, it is naught but 
the light from a torch.’ They slipped out of the 
servants’ door, and escaped down an alley to the 
rear of the house. Madame hastened with her chil- 
dren, one of them a babe in arms, to the hut of 
old nurse, a Catholic, but one she knew would 
hide her for the love she bore her. There she 
stayed with her children, guarded by the old dame, 
who fed and took care of them. Not even her near- 
est neighbor knew what a precious burden her attic 
held. Before the disturbance was over, Madame’s 
husband secretly returned to Paris. He hunted 
high and low for his family. He became almost 
wild with the fear that his dear ones were among 
the dead, for it was long before the faithful old nurse 
could find means of letting him know where they 
were hidden, without arousing suspicion. In the 


STORY OF DE LA DANTIER 47 

dead of night Monsieur took them away. It was 
time, for the confinement and the momentary fear 
of being caught had been almost too much for the 
active little ones. Babette, I should have died of 
fright had I lived then.” 

“ Thou must learn to be brave. But I am glad 
we did n’t live then ; times are hard enough now, 
when honest folk have to leave their homes in 
secret,” grumbled the old dame. 

The child nodded her head dreamily. Her 
thoughts were on her story and events that had 
taken place hundreds of years before. Her mind 
was a perfect storehouse of such tales, always 
kept well-filled by old Jacques and her mother, for 
she was insatiable in her demands for more and in 
repeating them she seldom missed a detail. Mar- 
got continued : — 

“ There is a beautiful story about that same 
Madame and the loyalty of that old nurse of hers — 
but ’t is of Louis de la Dantier I am telling — Louis 
the brave, Louis the good-hearted. Madame and 
the children pleaded with him to stay in hiding 
with .them, but he would not. He knew that as 
soon as the attack was over in the city, the mob 
would begin on the outlying towns. Their place 
was the first large landed estate outside of Paris, 


MARGOT 


48 

and would be the first to be attacked. He thought 
of his mother and his sisters, all alone without a 
protector save old Pierre, half blind and decrepid 
with age, and fear lent wings to his feet. He 
hurried down all the secluded streets he could, and 
would hide in some darkened doorway when he 
heard a troop of soldiers coming. There were 
times when he mixed with the crowd, assuming a 
boldness he was far from feeling. He was once 
stopped by three villanous looking men, their 
pikes dripping blood and mad with the lust of it. 
Gladly would he have escaped, but he was not 
quick enough. One of the men made a lunge at 
him with his pike, when, quick as thought, Louis 
caught up the little silver cross, which hung about 
his neck, and held it out to them. It was his 
reward of merit given him by a father at the col- 
lege where he attended. It was a happy chance 
that he had it on. One of the men, more good- 
natured than the others, who wanted to kill him 
whether Catholic or Protestant, said : ‘ Let the boy 
alone, are there not enough Huguenots with rich 
red blood to prick ? ’ Then they began disputing 
with each other, which gave Louis an opportunity 
to slip away. He did not, I assure thee, look back 
to see how the quarrel ended — whether the three 


STORY OF DE LA DANTIER 49 

strode amiably on arm in arm, or whether they 
left one weltering in his blood on the ground. 
The time seemed ages long to him as he hurried 
through that fearsome city. His blood was almost 
congealed and his hair stood on end at the sights 
he saw — for the dead and dying lay scattered about 
the streets, there being many killed at that early 
hour. At length he reached the gates, only to 
find them closed. But he did not despair at that, 
for was not Emile Croix, — the warder, an old friend 
of the family ? Many a ride on his pony had he 
given Emile’s little lame boy. Was there ever a 
feast day that he forgot Henri, whose birthday was 
the same as his ? Did not Madame de la Dantier 
always send flannels and linen to the many new 
babies that were ever coming to Emile’s house? 
Louis summoned up his courage and knocked at 
the door of the warder’s house, which formed part 
of the old gate of Paris. There was no answer. 
He thought to himself what if Emile had gone to 
join the rabble in the city? No matter, he must 
get in somehow or other. He pounded on the 
door with all his might, calling the man’s name 
repeatedly, in his frenzy not caring whether he 
aroused the neighbors or not. At last Emile came 
yawning, as if he had but just awakened. Ah, 

4 


MARGOT 


50 

sleep had been far from Emile’s eyes that night! 
Louis now breathed a sigh of relief. 

“ ‘ Ah, Emile, at last thou comest ! ’ he said. 
‘Open the gates for me; I must go out and home- 
ward.’ 

“ ‘ I cannot. Monsieur Louis,’ he replied, ‘ I have 
not the key.’ 

“ ‘ Where is it ? ’ asked Louis. 

‘ I know not. They have taken it away.’ 

“ Louis was greatly upset then, for he had hoped 
to borrow Emile’s old black horse, on whose back 
he knew it would not take him many minutes to 
reach his home. Then he asked the warder if he 
knew what the people were doing over there — 
meaning in the heart of the city. 

“ ‘ I fear me I do,’ he replied, ‘ but I shall have 
naught to do with it.’ Babette, he was a Catholic 
too; thou knowest there are good and bad in all. 
And Captain Maurtaille is a descendant of that 
very gate-keeper.” 

“ Well, I am surprised that he should be a 
Papist,” said the old dame. 

“Yet he is a good man, Babette.” 

Babette grudgingly admitted that he was, and 
Margot continued her tale. 

“ Louis persuaded the warder to let him get 


STORY OF DE LA DANTIER 


51 

out through one of the windows. From there he 
climbed down the stone masonry of the old gate, 
and was off on a run. How glad was he of his 
fleetness of foot, and that his» country life had 
made his muscles hard as steel. As he ran, taking 
great leaps like an antelope, his mind kept ringing 
with these words. ‘ Where hide them } where hide 
them ? Mother will know what to do,’ he thought, 
‘ but there is so little time, even now as I run the 
mounted men may be issuing out of the gates to 
scour the country side.’ Louis looked over his 
shoulder and half stopped in his fear to listen. All 
was still. ‘ Hide them, hide them,’ he kept saying 
half aloud, when a thought so pleasant struck him 
that he unconsciously slackened his speed and in 
his delight heard no longer the hoarse cries of 
'A das les Huguenots'' or the shrill wails of the 
dying. His home was one of those old manor- 
houses rarely seen now. It had been built in feu- 
dal times. In it there was a secret passage, entered 
by a panel in the wall. It led into a steep stair- 
way, down which you came into a subterranean 
room, built under the house, all nicely furnished 
and very cozy. It had never been used in Louis’ 
time except by the children in their play. ’T was 
the thought of this secret room, that had brought 


MARGOT 


52 

such contentment to the boy. The women could 
go down there and stay until the passion of the 
people was satisfied. Even if the house were 
burned they would be safe. As for him, he should 
take old Calino, the fleetest horse in the stable, and 
warn all the Huguenots he could. 

“ He reached home, panting and almost breathless. 
He aroused his people and told them the horrible 
news. His mother, a brave and true woman, with 
the help of her maids hastened to make everything 
ready. It was hard for Madame to let her only son 
take any more risk, but she conquered herself and 
sent him off with a ‘ God bless thee,' for dear to 
her were the people in the neighboring chateaux. 
She promised Louis as soon as they saw the dust 
flying down the* road, showing that the mob was 
coming, to go into the secret passage, and on down 
into the room, Pierre alone being left to inform 
them that the family had gone away. 

“ The rising sun was just peeping over the distant 
hill tops when the hostile party, headed by some of 
the most influential men of the day, reached the 
Manor, where they stopped. They found it seem- 
ingly deserted. They were disappointed but in their 
hurry to get on did but little damage. Finding the 
next two chateaux also vacant, they began to wonder 


STORY OF DE LA DANTIER 


53 

who had spread the alarm, for they had been the 
first of the mounted men to ride out of Paris that 
day. The vandals vented all their fury upon the 
third manor, stopping long enough to set it afire. 
On, on, went Louis urging old Galino, but in vain ; 
Calino’s day was done. Louis led him off the 
highway, far enough so he could not be seen, and 
there Calino, faithful horse, breathed his last. Louis 
hid down an old well, from the brink of which, far 
off, he watched the men trooping past. Was he not 
a brave boy, Babette ? ” 

“Yes, indeed,” she answered. “ The dangers of 
those times bred brave boys and girls, too — see that 
thou dost become one.” 

“ Indeed I will be one. There is not much more 
to tell. A few days later Louis dared go home. 
He had very many hair-breadth escapes, though, be- 
fore he reached there. Madame and the family re- 
mained quietly hiding, until Monsieur de la Dantier, 
coming home in all haste with his armed men, took 
them to his more secluded manor in Mayenne. 
When Louis grew old enough he entered the ser- 
vice of Henri of Navarre, who became Henri IV., 
after the death of King Henry HI. Louis de la 
Dantier was made much of by the king because of 
the services he had rendered in saving so many^ 


MARGOT 


54 

Huguenots, some of whom, children at that time, 
later became famous. It was a matter of admiration 
to King Henri IV. that a young lad should so have 
outwitted such great men, nor was Louis the only 
lad to become noted for his bravery during those 
turbulent days. Because of his valor and greater 
fame, he was created Count Louis de la Dantier of 
Vailleurbaume and S'ainte Armand, and the coat-of- 
arms — a silver shield with three bezants on its 
crimson fesse — bestowed upon him. It is from 
that branch of the family we are descended.” 

Margot stopped, her story ended, and looked at 
Babette. She was sound asleep. 


Chapter V 

BABETTE’S DREAM 

ATISFIED that Babette was sleep- 
ing, Margot leaned back against the 
cushions of the caleche, while looking 
drowsily out on the beautiful coun- 
try, which disappeared rapidly as 
they passed onward. 

Was this peaceful land soon to be upset by the 
fury of man’s anger.? Man to be pitted against 
man, and no one to know where to look for succor.? 
Might not one’s own brother betray him for greed, 
revenge, or mistaken loyalty to Him who looked 
down in mingled wrath and sorrow upon His 
people .? Would these roads soon be overrun with 
the hunted and the hunter; with men, women and 
children fleeing from their own land to any harbor 
of safety .? 

If it were to be so, there was no hint of it 
that day. Peace, smiling peace was everywhere. 
Hardly a wagon or caleche passed to disturb the 
lambs frisking by their mothers. The foals roamed 



MARGOT 


56 

the fields at large, and the cows were quietly chew- 
ing their cuds beneath the umbrageous green of the 
spreading trees. 

The caleche went through the slushy roads. The 
wheels splashed the mud to right and to left. 
Heavy rains had fallen in this part of the country 
for some time, as the deep water in the ditches 
along each side of the road showed. 

The horses puffed and blew the breath through 
their nostrils, for the road was heavy, and they 
were tired. They were faithful creatures, however, 
and put forth new efforts as they instinctively 
felt that their labor for the day was about over. 
They were right. Suddenly they were whirled 
about and driven into a small courtyard — a 
quiet, out-of-the-way place, — and pulled up with a 
flourish. 

Each tired beast gave a glad whinny, as he smelt 
his oats. Not many minutes would elapse ere 
Jacques would have them out and into clean stalls, 
there to rest their weary legs. 

This small, many-gabled house with neatly 
thatched roof was an inn. The fugitives were to 
stop here, refresh themselves a bit, and change tfie 
horses before going further. The innkeeper was 
well known to Sieur Dantier and under some 



REPEATED ATTEMPTS AT CUFFING HIM 



B ABETTE’S DREAM 


57 

obligations to him, so could be relied upon to 
keep quiet in case of pursuit. Jacques had not 
time to call ere the host came hurrying out of the 
door. His sabots rang upon the brick walk. His 
face was full of smiles. The prospect of guests in 
a slack time was a matter for smiles. Jacques 
whispered a few words to him, and his face fell. 
To his credit be it said that he hesitated but for. 
a moment. 

He opened the door of the caleche and assisted 
the tired inmates to alight. He bade them wel- 
come, calling loudly in the next breath, “ Guillaume, 
Guillaume.” A very sleepy lad, evidently Guillaume, 
came round the corner of the inn, rubbing his eyes. 
On the quiet, Guillaume had been having his forty 
winks. Repeated attempts at cuffing him over the 
head on the innkeeper’s part, successfully dodged 
by the boy, seemed to have the desired effect of 
thoroughly awakeniag him. He then fell to work 
with a will, and soon the tired horses were out. 

Meanwhile Margot and Babette followed their 
host into the living-room of the inn, while he filled 
the air with lamentations about the lad, interspersed 
with apologies to the ladies. “ The lad was a sleepy 
head ; one who could sleep standing up, in fact, 
everywhere and anywhere. To keep him dodging 


58 MARGOT 

about was the only effectual means of successfully 
arousing him.” 

After seating his guests, the innkeeper called 
for his wife and daughter to come. Immediately 
a fair and plump country lass, ridiculously like her 
sire, put in an appearance. She helped the travel- 
lers off with their wraps, as she chattered inces- 
santly of the “ Maman ” who was busy with her 
hands in the cheese so could not come ; “ Maman ” 
who had so much to do before the morrow. She 
told them that the house was to be full then with 
soldiers and gay ladies, a hunting party in fact ; 
and added how nice it would be, for they should 
see all the fine people. While talking she led the 
way into a small room, which was the pink of neat- 
ness, poured water for them, brushed the dirt from 
their clothes, and put them quite at ease as she 
bustled about. 

When refreshed, they followed her back into the 
living room. They were glad to sit and rest while 
the maiden set the table and prepared a hasty but 
appetizing meal. While they were eating, she 
watched them with all a maid’s curiosity. Finally 
it got the better of her politeness, and she began 
asking them all manner of questions; babbling on 
like that curling brook which crossed the road 


B ABETTE’S DREAM 


59 

under a little stone bridge, a yard or two from her 
father’s inn-door. How it guggled and sputtered 
over the stones, telling of pleasant places from 
whence it came ; asking questions of the lush 
grass which bent over and kissed it as it passed ! 
The maiden unmeaningly hurt where she knew it 
not, and Babette’s face was becoming as set as a 
stone, and Margot was blushing for shame at their 
secrecy. The innkeeper perceived this and sent 
the maid out of the room upon an errand. So 
she was kept busy until Jacques’ hunger appeased, 
and fresh horses put to, he called for them to 
come. 

The innkeeper’s daughter was nowhere in sight 
when they started. They were nearly out of the 
court when she came running toward them, a mass 
of flowers in her hands. Jacques pulled up a mo- 
ment to see what she wanted. She said nothing, 
but threw into Margot’s lap the bouquet of many- 
hued flowers. Then she waved her hand in fare- 
well, while Jacques cracked his whip and they 
started on again. Margot called back her thanks, 
and nodded and smiled at the maid as long as she 
could see her beside the tree. 

“Was it not dear of her.? See, such lovely 
flowers ! ” 


6o 


MARGOT 


“Yes, she’s a nice girl, but she was eaten up 
with curiosity.” 

“ But I do not think she meant any harm, dost 
thou? ” 

“ Perhaps not, but I was afraid of her tongue.” 

There was silence in the Caleche for a few mo- 
ments when Margot, looking up to ask a ques- 
tion, found that Babette was again nodding. She 
turned away softly, so as not to awaken her. She 
shut her own eyes and tried also to sleep. But in 
a few moments they were wide open and she was 
again looking out of the window. 

They passed few people, Jacques having chosen 
a road off the thoroughfare as being safer. He 
was now urging his horses to their utmost speed 
with the hope of reaching the hut before the night 
grew too dark. Twilight came on with its long 
shadows and quaint outlines, and Jacques got down 
and lighted the lanterns which hung by the sides 
of the conveyance. He stopped long enough to 
ask Margot if she were tired and to assure her that 
they would soon be at their journey’s end. When he 
was back on the box he called lustily to his horses 
and they went at such a speed, that the caleche 
rocked from side to side. Babette’s head bobbed 
among the cushions, and finally she awakened. 


B ABETTE’S DREAM 


6i 

Conversation was again resumed. Each en- 
deavored to keep the other’s courage from failing, for 
the night had fallen quickly, and it was dark and 
starless. They spoke in low tones, for they did not 
want to miss one of the cheery words that Jacques 
continually called to his horses. 

“ Oh, but I have had a curious dream,” said 
Babette. “One would think I had eaten too much 
of the nougat and fougasses on a feast day, and it 
had given me the nightmare. I dreamed that thou 
and I, dear heart, alone — for I could see the Maman 
nowhere — were wandering in a beautiful field. Ah, 
but ’t was beautiful ! The waving grass bent over like 
the blade of a sickle, and the flowers glowed like fire- 
flies, now one color now another. Thou wert walk- 
ing about with thine eyes shut tight, as if thou wert 
blind. Every now and then thou wouldst stoop 
and pluck a flower. As thou didst so the gorgeous 
blossom fell to pieces and the flower leaves floated 
about thee, leaving naught in thy hands but a 
shrivelled stem. Now the wonder of it all was that 
as soon as the petals touched the ground they 
turned into most horrible dragons, that hissed 
and thrust out their fiery tongues at thee. I was 
mad with fear, but not one touched thee, as ever 
thou persisted and ever wast disappointed. When I 


62 


MARGOT 


was crying for very sorrow, there came on a sudden 
from out the bright sky an angel with shimmer- 
ing wings and spotless raiment. Just such wings 
she had as I have seen a gossamer butterfly wear. 
My old eyes were blinded at the sight. But do not 
think, dear heart, that to me she came, — old bones 
were not for her. Thou wast the one. She flew 
directly to thee. In thine arms she placed a bunch 
of blooming flowers, all white and of a sweet smell. 
The dragons became flowers again. The angel 
smiled and said something. I strained my ears to 
overhear the words, till I thought my drums would 
crack, but it was of no avail. With thee it was much 
different, much different, for thou didst understand 
every word, and didst nod and nod till she was out 
of sight. Now, as my eyes overflowed with the 
happy tears at seeing thee so pleased with the 
angel’s message I awoke, to find I had been weep- 
ing ; the brine was still upon my eye-winkers.” 

“ That was a queer dream ; I suppose these 
flowers suggested it,” said Margot, smelling her 
posies. “ Too bad thou didst not catch the angel’s 
message. How I wish that thou hadst.” 

“ Yes, that is the way with dreams. I always 
miss the very gist of them.” 

“Thou couldst not think what the an^el mieht 

o o 


BABETTE’S DREAM 63 

have said, couldst thou, Babette ? ” she asked wist- 
fully. 

“ Dear heart, ’tis only prophets in the Bible that 
can do that, like Joseph, for instance, who foretold 
Pharaoh’s dream of the fat and lean ears of corn. 
Thou knowest they always remembered all the dreams 
in those days, whereas I ’m so stupid I always for- 
get the very best part, either the beginning or the 
ending — and the dream amounts to nothing. But 
that was n’t a bad dream as dreams go nowadays, 
and I will whisper what I think it might mean. It 
is this: no matter what trouble thou hast, my Mar- 
got, however hard to bear, it will have a good end- 
ing, — thou wilt get thy flowers at the last, and they 
will be the very best in the market.” She finished 
so impressively that Margot smiled at her. 

They were now before the hut, and Jacques helped 
them out and proceeded to make it habitable for the 
night. A poor place it was, but clean. After seeing 
them comfortable he left them, intending to change 
the horses a short distance on and then hasten back 
to Sieur and Madame, who would be anxious to 
know if the fugitives had arrived at the hut and 
were safe. 


Chapter VI 

MARGOT DANCES THE GAVOT 

T was the morning of the second day 
that they had spent in the hut waiting, 
waiting. Yesterday had been a day 
of interminable length, never-ceasing 
longing, and heart-racking disap- 
pointment to the fugitives. It seemed as if to-day 
might outdo yesterday in dolefulness. The day 
dawned gray and lowering. Heavy clouds hung 
low in the west. The sun hid his face and it 
threatened every moment to rain. All of which 
did not tend to raise the spirits of either Margot or 
her nurse. 

Margot was sitting out on the door-sill looking 
down the road which led to Paris. She had awak- 
ened early, in spite of the darkness of the morning 
and had softly rolled out of her hay bed, and tip- 
toed to the door, so as not to waken Babette. She 
need not have been so quiet, for Babette slept like a 
cat with one eye open. She soon followed the child 
and there on the steps they ate their frugal meal. 



MARGOT DANCES THE GAVOT 65 

The place was a tumble-down shanty on the edge 
of the road to Havre. They escaped the curiosity 
of neighbors, for there were none. The only habi- 
tation near was a deserted chateau, standing high 
upon a hill looming up in the distance against the 
sky, like a fairy castle. That morning it was hidden 
by the mist. 

The old dame, nervous, and with cause, busied 
herself here and there and everywhere. She counted 
over the money in her purse given her by Sieur 
Dantier (although she knew to a centime just how 
much it contained) and hid the jewel case in every 
conceivable place about her person. At last she 
hung it by a hempen rope fastened about her waist, 
where with every motion she could feel it bumping 
against her legs. The thief would be clever who 
could steal it now. In Babette’s eyes the whole 
world was full of thieves ; she believed every man 
dishonest till he proved himself to be otherwise. 

The old dame had indeed had a great responsi- 
bility thrust upon her. She tried to brush from 
her the thought which would come pounding at her 
brain that something had happened to her master 
and mistress. The King! the King! what might 
he not do with such power? Indeed, the same 
thought hung heavy as a pall over them both : that 
5 


66 


MARGOT 


they must start early the next morning for the port 
of Havre, whether the watched for ones came or 
not, so as to be in time for Captain Hezekiah Brown, 
who had set that day for his departure from France. 

“ Margot, dear heart, thou must come from that 
door ; there may be some more of the King’s sol- 
diers riding by. May fire destroy them ! One scare 
such as I had yesterday is enough in a life time. 
Oh, to think we should be hiding here like a parcel 
of thieves ! ” 

Poor old Babette ! How little she knew what was 
before her. Yester evening as Margot and she 
stood at the door thinking how nice it would be if 
they might wander to that ruined castle, they saw 
far off a troop of men on horses. Babette hurried 
Margot into the old feeding bin which stood at the 
back of the hut, threw a ragged cloth about her own 
dress and head, and came back to the front. The 
men halted at the door, and asked for some water to 
drink. While they quaffed the sparkling water, 
taken from the well, they asked her idly enough if 
she had seen any Huguenots about. They told 
her that they were out looking for some that were 
known to be leaving France. Babette immediately 
thought they meant Margot. She vehemently de- 
nied having seen anybody, while mentally asking 


MARGOT DANCES THE GAVOT 67 

the Father to forgive her the lie she told. She 
rather overdid it, and if the lively fellows had been 
very much in earnest they would have smelt a 
mouse. 

“ Huguenots ! ” she shrieked in her highest tones, 
which made Margot quake in her hiding-place ; 
“ What should an old woman like me know about 
Huguenots ? ’T is hard enough to get anything 
to eat. It ’s work, work, work, from morning till 
night to keep the wolf away from the door. That ’s 
what I do, without worrying about aught else. 
Huguenots, I ’m sick of the very name.” 

One of the fellows pulled a small carved image 
of Our Lady from his breast and told her to kiss it 
if she were not a Huguenot. Think not Babette 
made any objections to that! She would have done 
anything to hasten the jovial fellows on their way. 
Her old knees were knocking against each other as 
if she were stricken with the palsy, and her heart- 
beats sounded to her ears like the tapping of a 
drum, so that she feared that they might hear them. 
But in a few moments, laughing, they rode away, 
leaving the old dame collapsed on the door sill. 
Ere they were out of sight she remembered Margot, 
and went and extricated her from her hiding-place. 

To-day she was in momentary fear of something 


68 


MARGOT 


similar happening. But, whenever she glanced at 
Margot, who sat on the door-sill waiting and watch- 
ing with a world of longing in her eyes, she found 
it hard to carry out a plan she had been thinking of 
all the morning. Another scare ! the quick whisk- 
ing of the child into the hut, to find it was only a 
belated huckster on his way to market, and she was 
decided. She went to a corner of the room, and 
opening a locker took a package from it. The 
package contained a complete peasant boy’s suit of 
clothes neatly folded. Babette had discovered it 
when putting away the food which she had brought 
with her to last until they should be on board ship. 

“ Margot, dear heart, come here,” she called in a 
rather sharp voice, because her heart was quaking ; 
“see what I have found. Dost not want to put 
them on ? Then thou wilt look even as Louis de 
la Dantier did in in 1572,” she added as she held 
them up for inspection. 

“Louis de la Dantier did not wear peasant’s 
clothes,” said Margot, quickly. 

“True enough; but he would not have hesitated 
to have done so in a case like this. And see, they 
are quite new,” and Babette put the clothes up to 
her long nose and smelt of them, “quite new. 
One might think they had been left by the good 


MARGOT DANCES THE GAVOT 69 

Lord himself for thee, and just the right size, too.” 
She held them up to the child to measure them. 
“Wonderful are the workings of the Lord!” 

While Babette was talking, Margot stood finger- 
ing the coarse blue wool of the suit with a perplexed 
look upon her face. Her hands looked lily white 
against the dark stuff. 

“ Thou wilt let me put them on ? ” asked Babette, 
coaxingly. 

“ Yes,” she replied in a decided voice ; and thou 
shalt snip off these curls, too — then will the resem- 
blance be even more like.” 

“ I dare not, I dare not,” said Babette, her voice 
trembling; “ Madame would never forgive me.” 

“ I will make it right with Maman for thee, Ba- 
bette. Boys don’t wear hair down to their waist, like 
this.” 

“ Thou art right, but I hate to, — I hate to.” 

Snip, snip, snap at length went the scissors, and 
into Babette’s lap fell the long strands of hair, which 
clung lovingly round her fingers. She had only fin- 
ished half, when two big tears came in her eyes and 
blinded her. They overflowed and dropped among 
the golden locks. 

“I cannot I I cannot!” she exclaimed, as the 
scissors fell from her shaking fingers. 


70 


MARGOT 


“ Puff ! ” said Margot ; “ give me the scissors, and 
I will finish it for thee.” And taking them, she 
began to hack at her hair. 

“ Lord forgive thee, child, what art thou doing ” 
cried Babette. “Thou wilt ruin it.” With the 
scissors once more in her hand, Babette soon fin- 
ished her uncompleted task. “ There, let me see 
thee ; thou art a nice boy, and I trust a brave one,” 
she added, trying to speak gayly. 

“ Ah, Babette, though thou hast made me look 
like a boy, thou canst not put a brave heart in me, 
even as Louis de la Dantier had,” said Margot, and 
sighed. 

“ Brave ! Come, thou shalt begin to learn to be 
brave by wearing these,” she said with cunning, 
holding out a pair of wooden sabots, which she had 
kept hidden until now. 

“Those things!” said Margot, with scorn in her 
voice. “ Not I. I like what I have on better.” 

“ Come, they are not so bad ; I have worn sabots 
myself. Many a day when I was a little girl no big- 
ger than thou art, did I trudge miles in them. Why, 
I took a prize once at a fair, for dancing the gavot 
in sabots.” A light gleamed in the old dame’s face 
at the recollection. 

“ Oh, didst thou, Babette ? ” cried Margot eagerly. 


MARGOT DANCES THE GAVOT 71 

although a smile came upon her lips at the idea of 
her old nurse dancing, — Babette so staid and prim. 
“ Was it like the dance I learned from Madame 
Butte ? Let me see if I can dance it in sabots.” 

Quickly now nimble fingers took off the pretty 
bottines, and in their place the sabots were put on. 
Then back and forth in the stately measure of the 
dance swept the graceful figure. A half smile 
wreathed her lips at the difficulty she had in keep- 
ing on the sabots. But as the measure became 
faster it was not so hard, for the nimble feet leaped 
so rapidly they did not have time to slip. Thus in- 
terested they forgot everything — time, place, and 
events were as naught. Babette leaned forward in 
her chair, her long fingers still fondling the curls in 
her lap, her eyes eagerly following the child. The 
wrinkles of perplexity were all smoothed from her 
brow as she lived again her own dancing days. A 
smouldering fagot on the hearth threw a bright glow 
over the child, making her appear in the dingy room 
(lighted only by one grimy pane) like a living pic- 
ture. The old nurse beat time with her head, time 
to the twinkling feet that rat-tated on the bare floor, 
sending out such a clatter as delighted the ears of 
the old dame. Now bowing, turning, and pirouetting, 
every pose of the graceful figure showing to advan- 


MARGOT 


72 

tage in the boy’s attire, whirled Margot like one 
inspired. At last, when almost breathless, she 
stopped with a laugh. 

“ Bravo ! bravo ! ” cried a voice at the window, 
accompanied by a hearty clapping of hands. 

“ Bo7i Dieu ! ” screamed Babette, hastily throwing 
her apron over the curls in her lap. 

She yet had presence of mind enough to grab 
Margot’s dress from where it lay in a little heap 
on the floor, and sit on it as the quickest way of 
hiding it, while the stranger came round to the 
door. 

“ Be not alarmed at my intrusion,” he said, doff- 
ing his hat with a flourish and grace that told of 
Versailles. “ I was but coming to ask you for a gob- 
let of water, when, hearing the clatter of the shoon 
upon the floor, I was tempted to look, and looking 
became enchanted. Why even old Sol himself 
could not stay hidden with such provocation to 
peep,” he added with a smile, pointing to a faint 
beam that meandered across the room. “ Truly, 
the child dances like Terpsichore herself.” 

Margot stood where she had been erstwhile so 
gayly dancing, her face going from red to white, 
and from white to red again. The stranger noticed 
the confusion on both their faces and perhaps had 


MARGOT DANCES THE GAVOT 73 

seen more of the late manoeuvrings of Babette than 
she had any idea of, for he said : — 

“ I pray you believe that I have neither eyes to 
see nor ears to hear aught that you wish hidden. 
I am on my way to the sea.” 

“Oh, art thou.f^” began Margot eagerly, but 
checked herself as Babette gave a very loud and 
decided cough, and blushed more deeply than 
ever. 

“ Yes,” Monsieur said, smiling and pretending 
not to notice the interruption ; “ And now, dame, 
if you will tell me where I may draw a bucket of 
water for my horse, I shall be under a thousand 
obligations to you, the more so that this child has 
chased the clouds from the sun’s face, and I am 
sure that he will stay out lest he miss a repetition 
of what he but caught a glimpse.” 

Now Babette was in a very embarrassing position, 
for if she arose from the chair, her secret would be 
out, yet she wished to oblige the handsome stran- 
ger. Margot saw the predicament she was in and 
hastened to say: — 

“ I will show thee. ’T is not far, only around at 
the back of the house, where the ground slopes so 
suddenly as to almost hide it.” 

Monsieur picked up a bucket, which he saw 


MARGOT 


74 

standing on a bench near the door, and together 
they set off down the beaten path now flecked with 
sunshine. But their backs were hardly turned ere 
Babette was after them. She was afraid lest the 
stranger would draw some remarks from Margot 
relative to their position. But Monsieur was dis- 
cretion itself, talking only of his own affairs — of 
his horse, a beautiful creature that followed him 
like a dog, and of his journey. It was not long 
before he bade them good bye to the great relief of 
Babette and sorrow of Margot. Margot did not 
see how this delightful man could do them any 
harm. Babette was fearful of the arrival of Sieur 
and Madame Dantier, who might be known to the 
stranger. They watched him ride off upon his 
horse until a curve in the road hid him from sight. 
Then Margot resumed her seat on the door sill, 
while her nurse tied up the curls with a blue rib- 
bon and put them away in one of her numerous 
pockets to keep for Madame. 

More than one crowd of the King’s soldiers 
passed, but they simply glanced at the child and 
rode on. Babette smiled a queer smile and thanked 
God for the peasant’s clothes found in the hut. 
Every caleche, wagon, or person as it came in 
sight (even before Margot could distinguish what 


MARGOT DANCES THE GAVOT 


75 

it was) caused her heart to beat almost to bursting. 
As they came nearer and she saw that they were 
not the expected ones it would seem to sink down 
into the little wooden sabots, there to stay heavy as 
lead until the appearance of the next object, when 
hope would again shine in the big brown eyes. 
And so the day passed. 


Chapter VII 


THE TOKEN OF GRATITUDE 

HEN the stars were shining brightly 
in the sky Margot knelt down by 
Babette’s side, and repeated the short 
prayers she had always said at her 
mother’s knee. Then she prayed 
that God would bring her mother and father safe to 
her, and help the King to do no wrong. After- 
wards, as she was undressing, handling rather du- 
biously the boy’s clothes, she said to Babette : — 
“Hast thought what the boy will do when he 
finds his clothes gone ? ” 

“Indeed I haven’t, dear heart, unless ’tis that 
he will have to do without them.” 

“ Dost think ’tis an honest way of doing? ” 

“ Honest ! ” exclaimed Babette ; “ we are but tak- 
ing what nobody seems to care for. The good Lord 
will forgive us, since there is naught else to do.” 

“ But, Babette, that will not help the boy any. 
I know what I shall do — dost remember the louis 



THE TOKEN OF GRATITUDE 77 

d’or piece that father gave me ? I shall leave it 
for him.” 

“ Thou wilt leave it for thieves to get, then,” said 
the old dame decidedly. “ ’T is my opinion that this 
house has been vacant a long time. What poor 
woman would leave a good suit like that ? No, no, 
more like it was dropped from heaven for thee and 
believing so we shall take it and be grateful.” 

“ Nevertheless I shall leave the money. How 
dost know but some poor boy on his way to sea, 
dropped in here to spend the night and the next 
day started on his journey forgetful of his package ? 
Should he come back he will not come for naught ; 
he will find the money that shall buy him a new 
suit.” 

“ Of course ’t is thine own — ” Babette said, with 
a shrug and a wave of the hand that expressed as 
plainly as words that she knew what would become 
of the louis-d’or. 

“ Babette, may I have one of my curls ? ” 

“Yes,” grudgingly said Babette ; “what art going 
to do with it ? ” 

“ I will tell thee,” she said, taking the curl from 
Babette. 

“ I am going to make a little nest for the money, 
and the boy will know that I wanted to give him 


78 MARGOT 

something beside gold for his kindness in leaving 
his things.” 

“ Gold enough I ’m thinking,” mumbled the old 
dame, looking at the golden curl and the golden 
coin. “ But thou dost forget that the boy did not 
leave the clothes for thee.” 

“ What difference does it make, Babette, since we 
have taken them. It will not hurt him to know 
that we are grateful.” 

“ What ideas thou hast, child ; but do as thou 
wishest.” 

Thoughts, golden as the curl and coin, were in 
Marofot’s heart as she walked across the room to 

0 

the locker^ and put down into its depths the price 
of the clothes and the token of gratitude. 

“ Babette, dost think I shall ever see my parents 
again ? ” said Margot, presently, as she sat on the 
side of the sweet smelling hay bed. Tears, big, 
silent tears, splashed down on her night robe. “ I 
fear me, I fear me.” 

“ Of course thou wilt, dear heart,” said Babette, 
who had not known before that she was weeping, 
“ but it will be in the good Lord’s own time, and 
thou must not be rebellious.” 

1 will not I will not. Only I do so wish for my 
mother.” 


THE TOKEN OF GRATITUDE 79 

“ They may be waiting at the ship for us. So go 
to sleep now like a good one, for we must be up at 
cock’s crow.” 

Margot tried obediently to do as she was asked, 
and Babette waited until she thought she was asleep. 
Then down on her old rheumatic knees she floun- 
dered, and began to pray in so violent a fashion, 
with such meanings, and claspings of hands, and 
shakings of her head as to leave one in doubt 
whether she was supplicating or complaining to the 
Lord. Evidently she found hope, help and en- 
couragement from her prayer, for she rose from her 
knees refreshed in spirit, and so girded up her loins 
for all coming difficulties. 

She took her chair and placed it beside the bed 
upon which Margot was sleeping. There she made 
herself as comfortable as possible and dozed off for 
a few hours. In the early morning ere the stars 
had faded she arose and made all -ready, and it was 
not long before, they were walking toward Havre. 


Chapter VIII 


THE WAY OF CAPTAIN HEZEKIAH BROWN 

T was at first a pleasant experience 
to Margot, who had never been out 
at such an unseemly hour, but had 
nestled in her own bed, safe under her 
father’s roof. A few stars still glim- 
mered here and there in the high gray sky. They 
began to disappear one by one. The gray became 
paler and took on in places a faint pink tint. And 
what was that in the east ? A delicate opalescent 
glow like the inside of a seashell. It deepened into 
crimson and then the sun, big and round, appeared, 
the herald of a glorious day. Flowers dotted the 
roadside. They looked lovely in the soft light of the 
early morn. In truth they were faded, even dusty 
from the roadway. Margot wished to stop long 
enough to make a little nosegay of some to take the 
place of those left in the hut, although the flowers 
of the late summer never seemed quite so dear to 
her as those of the early spring. But Babette 
heeded her not, for she strode stolidly onward, 



CAPTAIN HEZEKIAH BROWN 8i 


pondering deeply on the mysterious ways of Provi- 
dence, the sending of an old woman, French to the 
backbone, to a foreign country. She loved every 
stick and stone of her own beautiful France; every 
blade of grass that grew about the door; every cricket 
that sang about the hearth. Never could any other 
place, however lovely, wean that faithful heart from 
her native land. She half muttered to herself that 
she was a fool to act so impulsively — at her time of 
life too — as to leave her home. She glanced at 
Margot. Peste ! what else was there for her to do ? 
Could she let the child go alone to a land peopled 
with yelping Indians, wild animals, and the Lord 
only knows what else } 

“ My goodness, dear heart, thou hast a most woe- 
begone look upon thy face. What is it.^ ” 

“ These sabots have worn holes in my feet, 
Babette, I do believe,” she answered solemnly. 

“ Canst stand it for a short time .? It seems to 
me that we are on the fringe of Havre. I smell the 
sea and the smoke from the chimneys.” 

The keenness of that long nose of Babette’s had 
not deceived her. They both gave vent to a sigh 
of relief as they entered the straggling streets of 
the port. Here and there a lanthorn hung from a 

rickety post; its candle still burning and casting 
6 


82 


MARGOT 


forth a feeble light. Only a few people were up. 
An occasional dog or cat ran past them, otherwise 
all was quiet. 

“ There,” said Babe tte, “ that must be the ship; 
’tis the only large one in dock. 

“ Yes. It is the ‘ Willing Bark.’ We are here at 
at last. I hope we ’ll have no trouble in finding the 
captain.” 

“Dost think that is he.f^” asked Margot, point- 
ing to a short, stout man, who was strutting up 
and down the deck, giving his orders in a swag- 
gering manner to a few New England sailors. 
They were busy getting the sails up and the deck 
in order preparatory to starting. 

As soon as the quick eyes of Captain Hezekiah 
caught sight of the Frenchwoman, over-burdened 
as regards her clothes, and leading a young lad, 
who hung back in a diffident way, he called 
out: — 

“Ah, there you are; I was afraid I’d have to 
leave without you. Is this the little boy, ahem ! 
who is running away from France, and wants to 
try his hand in a new world } Well, we want new 
blood there sure enough, and a few hardships will 
make those cheeks as hard as apples, and as rosy. 
But I thought I was to have a little lady passenger, 


CAPTAIN HEZEKIAH BROWN 83 

how is that? ” This last was asked in a low voice, 
but he spoke in a droll way, with many winks and 
gesticulations, and while he used very bad French, 
it was easily enough understood. 

Margot’s face was now rosy red, enough so to 
please even Captain Hezekiah ; but it was red from 
shame, — why had Babette made her wear those 
horrid clothes? She said, however, with a dignity 
which was all her own, — 

“ I am Margot Dantier. You are our friend, so I 
may tell you that Babette, my nurse, thought it 
best that I put on these boys’ garments. I like 
them not, though one steps well in them.” 

The captain gave a loud guffaw at her words and 
pinched her cheek, and tapped her head in a rough 
way that yet had no harm in it. 

Babette now began to ask for Sieur and Madame 
Dantier in a quick, excited manner. She put a 
dozen questions, it seemed, without stopping to 
breathe. Captain Hezekiah Brown stood with his 
hands stuck in his pockets staring quizzically at 
her. He was a product of that new country whither 
they were going. His face was the color of ma- 
hogany, and seamed with wrinkles. Two white scars 
crossed it, one on the forehead, and the other on 
the cheek. These white lines gave him a grim and 


MARGOT 


84 

fierce look. He was clad in a blue serge jacket and 
breeches tied about the middle with a soft, red, silken 
scarf, from which hung a seaman’s hanger. He 
wore red knitted stockings, stout, square-toed shoes 
with silver buckles, and on his head, jauntily hung 
over one ear, a three-cornered hat. 

“ Well, I ’ll be jiggered, dame,” he said, when Ba- 
bette had to stop for lack of wind. “ Do you think 
I ’m a Frenchie that you clang your clapper so ? 
Go slower.” The conversation was carried on in 
loud tones now that they were on deck, as people 
are apt to do, thinking that by speaking loudly they 
are the easier understood. 

“ Yes, yes, yes. I understand you. Sieur Dan- 
tier is detained, and he and his wife will follow by 
the next ship they can get. You are to go as far 
as New Amsterdam with me. Their boxes you ’ll 
find stowed on board. Wait, here ’s a letter telling 
you all about it. I most forgot to give it to you. 
Now you had best hide yourself and the little one 
down in the cabin, for some of his Majesty’s soldiers 
might come spying over the ship to see if I have 
contraband articles aboard.” He spoke with au- 
thority, then added, as if all the drollery would not 
down, as he gave a wink at Margot and a tap on 
her cheek, “ But I think Captain Hezekiah Brown 


CAPTAIN HEZEKIAH BROWN 85 

can hold his own. Come, then.” And he led the 
way, followed by the fugitives. 

“ There, make everything ship-shape, for we will 
be off in a jiffy. ’T is a snug little cage for a lady 
bird.” With these words he left them after locking 
the door. 

Peste ! Have we come to a den of thieves to be 
locked in so!” exclaimed Babette. She was anx- 
ious, however, to read her note, so she made no 
more comments, but sat herself down on the edge 
of the bunk and -began laboriously to decipher it. 
The note, it was no more, stated that the Sieur and 
Madame Dantier had been detained and would 
follow as soon as possible. She was to go on, and 
as God was her judge protect Margot from every 
possible danger, until such time as she could place 
her safe and unharmed in her mother’s arms. 

Margot went about the little room from one thing 
to another, looking first at the bunks where they were 
to sleep and then at the port-hole which was their 
only window. Presently she heard the creaking of 
the ropes, the flapping of the sails, and knew by the 
increased rocking of the ship that they were off. 
Like a flood the thought overwhelmed her that they 
were bound for a foreign shore without her dear 
parents. She saw that Babette realized it too. 


86 


MARGOT 


“ Babette ! Babette ! Babette ! ” she cried, “ what 
shall we do without them ? ” 

“ Ma petite, we can only trust in God’s good- 
ness to the end,” the broken old woman answered 
as she took her to her breast and tried to soothe 
and comfort the tired and troubled child. 

It seemed hours before the door was opened, and 
Captain Hezekiah Brown stood before them. 

“ I guess no one can get the little lady now ; and, 
Dame, you might as well put on her own rigging, 
unless we prefer what we have on as being easier 
to walk in.” Here he gave a sly wink at Margot. 
“ We are out of sight of the French land and Heze- 
kiah Brown is master of his own ship, and he 
gives you the run of it till we reach port. Cheer 
up, cheer up, and come up on deck who knows 
what you ’ll find there.” 

Margot had arisen when he opened the door but 
only shook her head as she looked at him in a sad 
way. As there was nothing else for him to do, the 
captain left them, after looking at the child for a 
moment, and scratching his head in a puzzled sort 
of way. 


Chapter IX 

TO THE RESCUE 



“Willing Bark” was a trading 
vessel, and carried immigrants, re- 
demptioners, and political prisoners, 
all going out to the Colonies. They 
were an unruly lot, and from down in 
the hold there would often come sounds of wild 
mirth, rough jesting, and frequent swearing. Cap- 
tain Hezekiah Brown used strenuous measures to 
keep it quiet below, not only for the little lady’s sake 
(his only passenger), but for the order of things. He 
was a severe taskmaster, and more than one man, 
convicts mostly, ended their voyage in chains. 

The captain was very fond of his little lady pas- 
senger, not only because she had paid her way in 
gold, although gold was what Captain Hezekiah 
Brown was working for, but also on account of her 
beauty and gentle ways. 

They had been many days at sea now, and Mar- 
got was dressed in her own proper habiliment. 
She stood on the deck looking at the spray comb- 



MARGOT 


ing itself against the side of the ship. Her time 
was spent thus and in watching the staid New 
Englanders at their work. She was left much to 
herself, for Babette was indeed a poor sailor. She 
spent her time in the snug cabin, praying every 
time the vessel gave a lurch; indeed there were 
grave doubts in her mind as to their ever reaching 
their journey’s end. 

The captain passed Margot on his watch, and 
when he saw the far-away look in her eyes he 
offered her his spy-glass. He was in the habit of 
extending this courtesy to her whenever he knew 
not what else to do. At such times he would 
scratch his head in perplexity, not being used to 
children and children’s ways. He felt sorry for the 
child bereft of both parents for the present and 
mayhap for all time. No one knew better than he, 
sailing between the two worlds as he constantly did, 
that those were perilous times. He was not always 
happy, however, in his manner of expressing his 
sympathy to the child, being but a rough seaman. 

“ Here, little lady, look through this, and tell me 
if you see any thing out yonder,” he said. This 
was the usual remark he made when handing her 
his glass. She took it in a patient way. She really 
did not care to look through it and, as always, see 


TO THE RESCUE 


89 

nothing, nothing but the blue sea rolling on in its 
calm way. To-day she was rewarded for her polite- 
ness, and a surprised look came into her face. 

“Yes, I do see something,” she cried, a quiver of 
excitement in her voice. “ It looks black, mayhap 
’t is a man.” Now she shuddered. 

“ More like a whale swimming,” he answered, 
rather surprised himself, for it had been merely a 
subterfuge on his part to divert her. He took the 
glass from her and looked through it. 

“ I see. It is something, but as yet I can’t make 
out what. See if you can.” And he handed the 
glass back to her. 

“Yes, I can,” she said; “it is a dog swimming. 
How can he have gotten into the water ? There 
are no ships in sight. 0\ petit bon Dieul do not 
let him drown,” she cried with a sob. 

“ By the Lord Harry, we ’ll have to send him help, 
he must have fallen overboard from a vessel. Here, 
you fellows, slacken the ropes,” the captain shouted 
his orders to his sailors for the bringing about of the 
ship and sent them hurrying about the deck. “ I ’m 
afraid he ’ll be done up before we can reach him.” 

They had now come near enough the object of 
interest, to see the dog’s face distinctly. His eyes, 
eyes of infinite sadness, were raised to the ship’s 


90 


MARGOT 


deck, with an expression of mute appeal. He was 
too exhausted to climb on to the plank which had 
been dropped near him. One, two, and three at- 
tempts he made and then gave it up. Now the 
spectators watched him in breathless silence. Again 
he made another attempt, and this time he managed 
to get his fore paws upon it but it looked as if each 
succeeding wave would wash them off, so feeble was 
his hold. 

“ Oh, Captain Brown, do not let him drown. Do 
not let him drown ! ” cried Margot, her voice trem- 
bling with excitement. “ See how hard he is fight- 
ing for his life.” 

The sailors were all gathered at the bow of the 
boat, except the man at the wheel who could not 
leave his post. One of them, a good-natured fellow 
who perhaps had a natural fondness for animals, 
climbed down the ship’s ladder before the captain 
had time to give the command. He was soon 
astride of the plank. After many tumbles into the 
water, and much cheering and jeering from the crew, 
which he submitted good-naturedly to, by dint of 
hauling and coaxing, and pushing, he succeeded in 
getting the dog upon it, where to all seeming he lay 
dead. 

“ The poor fellow ! ” called the sailor to them, 


TO THE RESCUE 


91 

“he’s food for Davy’s locker. He’s been a fine 
fellow in his day. A St. Bernard, I guess.” 

“ Oh, dost think he is really dead ? ” called Margot 
to the sailor. “ Please do not leave him there any 
way ; he might not be dead, thou knowest.” 

“ Well, boys,” said the captain, with a laugh and 
a twinkle in his eye, “ you hear what the little lady 
says ; so out with the life boat and rescue the perish- 
ing. It wouldn’t be just the thing not to give him 
a show after making such a fight for his life, and 
dropping the Lord knows where from.” 

Before he had finished speaking, the men were 
busy, and soon the boat was lowered. Splash, it 
floundered in the spray, and Margot uttered a dis- 
tressed cry, for now neither men, dog, nor boat, was 
to be seen for a moment, but only for a moment, 
when back to the surface they floated again. 

“ Careful, boys, careful. Haul him up and let us 
have a look at him. By Jove, he ’s as thin as a 
cod in spawning time ; been living on himself for 
some time, I ’ll be bound.” 

Margot raised her grateful eyes to the captain as 
the sailors brought the dog and laid him at her feet. 
It required the assistance of two of them as he was 
a large, fine fellow, although now naught but skin 
and bones. 


92 


MARGOT 


“ Ce bon chien ! Thou art not dead, truly thou art 
not,” murmured she to the apparently dying beast. 
“ See, he opens his eyes, and he breathes. ’T is 
starved he is. Dost think I might ask the cook for 
some broth } He can have mine.” And Margot ap- 
pealed to the captain. 

“ Here you, Doggett,” called the captain to one 
of the sailors, “ see what the cook can give you and 
say ’t is the little lady that wants it.” 

“ I thank you. He tries to lick my hand, poor 
dumb beast. What beautiful brown eyes he has, so 
soft and sad. ’T is glad thou art to be safe out of 
that vast devouring sea.” 

“If he ever amounts to anything, ’tis to a little 
French lady he owes it, and she may have him if 
she wishes,” said the captain. 

“ Is it to me you mean to give this beautiful 
dog .? ” asked Margot of the captain, with wonder- 
ment in her eyes. When he bent his head in re- 
peated nods she added: “Truly you are good, I 
shall love him very much.” 

Here Doggett, pleased evidently with his persua- 
sive powers, having obtained the soup, came up, and 
with a grin said : — 

“ It is not every one who has a friend in the cook. 
He was like one of Mother Carey’s chickens before 



“I SHALL HAVE TO FEED HIM” 



TO THE RESCUE 


93 

the storm, when I asked for the broth ; he changed 
his tune when I said it was for her.” Here he 
pointed a knotty finger at Margot. 

“ How kind of him to give it to me,” Margot mur- 
mured, as she took the broth from the sailor, thank- 
ing him. “ What shall I do ! what shall I do ! He 
won’t eat,” she said, distressed at the dog’s inability 
to eat the food. “ I shall have to feed him.” And 
so she did, pouring spoonful after spoonful down his 
throat. Soon he sat up on his haunches and began 
to feed himself. Then he began ravenously to eat 
of the black bread, which Margot had broken into 
bits. He must have been days without food. 

“ There, ’t is enough,” said the captain, as Margot 
looked inquiringly into the bowl and up into his 
face, wondering whether she might ask for more or 
not. “ It is best to be careful at first not to over- 
feed him. After a while we ’ll try and put some fat 
on his bones.” 

The good dog got up, and licked Margot’s hand 
in a grateful way. He stretched himself and gave 
a deep open-mouthed yawn. Then, with a sigh, he 
dropped at her feet and went to sleep. There was 
no doubt in his canine mind as to whom he be- 
longed. His mistress sat silently beside him, nor 
budged for fear of waking him. Even at the sound- 


94 


MARGOT 


ing of the five bells for meal-time she hated to leave 
him. The captain chuckled. “ The little lady has 
something to occupy her now, and ’t is time, ’t is 
time.” 

The dog slept for twenty-four hours, and only 
wakened once for food. Nature effected a perfect 
cure. He was a handsome fellow and soon became 
almost as much a favorite as Margot herself. He 
was devoted to his mistress, never willingly leaving 
her side. 

The next thing of importance, so it seemed to Mar- 
got, was to find out the dog’s name. She tried all 
the names in her vocabulary, and then she gave it 
up. 

“No, no, doggie, thou canst not own them all; 
mayhap thou didst not have a name. Thou cer- 
tainly art not a French dog. Come, let us to the 
captain, and ask him to help us. ’T is a good lucky 
name he shall give thee.” So saying Margot arose 
and, with the dog at her heels, went to find the cap- 
tain. The dog kept wagging his tail as much as to 
say: “Yes, that will be best, for I can neither tell 
you my name, nor how I came to be in that cruel 
water. Too bad, too bad! If I only could ; it would 
make your eyes open wider than they are now^ my 
mistress.” 


TO THE RESCUE 


95 

“ Can you think of a name for my dog, Captain 
Brown ? He does not answer to any of the names 
I know, or rather he answers to them all, for he 
wags his tail at all of them.” 

“ Well, well, I shall have to put on my thinking 
cap,” he replied, his face drawn up in its peculiar 
manner, and Margot was in doubt whether he was 
serious or going to crack one of his many jokes. 

“What is the matter with Neptune .f^” he said, 
after a moment’s hesitation. “ It was old father 
Neptune gave him to you, so why not flatter the old 
fellow by naming the dog after him ? ” 

Margot thought there was nothing the matter 
with Neptune, and so the dog was called. The 
captain in a spirit of drollery thought they ought to 
have a christening party. So they brought a bottle 
of water and Margot, letting a few drops fall on the 
dog’s head, said, with great seriousness, “ I christen 
thee Neptune.’^ The sailors enjoyed it immensely, 
for they welcomed any sport on a voyage usually 
full of hardships. Neptune looked very dubious 
about it, and Margot thought that for a time he had 
had about enough of water. 

So they sailed, and sailed with Neptune to vary 
the sameness of the days. He was a source of joy 
and comfort to Margot, who whispered things into 


MARGOT 


96 

his ears that she would not tell her nurse, for fear 
she might think her rebellious. 

He grew to be another dog, he became so fat and 
sleek. His mistress often wondered if he had left 
any friends in peril, or had anyone whom he longed 
for. He seemed to have no regrets and was just 
happy, trying to bring his mistress into the same 
state of mind. 


Chapter X 

NEW AMSTERDAM AND MONSIEUR 
DfiSIRE D’ALBERT 



)HE day broke heavy with mist. 
Margot, out on deck, could distin- 
guish nothing. She was not a little 
' disappointed, for this was the morn 
when they were to sight the fortifi- 
cations of New Amsterdam. The sturdy little 
craft, cutting its way through the mist, sailed down 
the narrows. On a sudden the sun thrust forth his 
fiery beams, pushed through the mist and rendered 
it as nothing. There before them lay the small 
town. 


“ Oh ! ” cried Margot. “ Is it not a strange land, 
just like the country, so many trees, — a forest 
indeed; and what queer houses.” 

It was not strange that she thought it a queer 
land, accustomed as she was to the fine buildings 
and palaces of France, or that Babette turned a 
disdainful lip; there was only one large brick 
7 



98 MARGOT 

house then in New Amsterdam, the home of a 
former Dutch governor, Peter Stuyvesant. 

When the ship came nearer, they saw that the 
streets were narrow and crooked, mere by-paths 
sometimes. No cobbled roads crossed the face of 
the country. The houses, being of wood, had gable 
ends of small black and yellow bricks, brought over 
from Holland. The roofs were very steep, and 
extended over the front of the houses, where they 
made a covering for the stoop in front of the door. 
Here the neighbors congregated of a summer’s 
evening to chat. In rainy weather it was not so 
convenient for people passing in the street, as the 
water from the roofs descended in torrents on the 
unwary passer-by’s head. In the back of the houses 
there was the inevitable lean-to. 

The houses were built facing the south, so that 
the sun at noon would fall square upon the floor 
and tell it was mid-day. The casements containing 
many panes swung out on hinges, and the date was 
in iron figures on some of them. 

Now, although Babette had turned a contemptu- 
ous eye at sight of the little straggling hamlet set 
on the water’s edge, still she was quite anxious to 
leave the “ Willing Bark ” that had brought them so 
many miles in safety. She had vowed many times 


NEW AMSTERDAM 


99 


during the trip that only let her get the sole of her 
foot on dry land, and never should she step aboard 
a vessel again. 

While the captain gave orders to the sailors 
about the bringing in of his ship, he kept his eyes 
open for some one in the crowd, which had gathered, 
as it always did, upon the coming in of a vessel 
from the Old World. He was looking for some 
one to whom he could intrust his passengers ; some 
one to take them to Vrouw Jans, who he knew 
could take care of them for the present His eyes 
lighted upon a tall, handsome man dressed in the 
regular trappings and leather leggings’ of a French 
Coureur de Bois. He came walking with a swing- 
ing tread, and joined the crowd about the wharf. 

“ Halloo there. Monsieur Desir^ d’Albert,” the 
captain sang out; “come aboard for a moment, 
will you ” 

“Certainly,” Monsieur replied, making his way 
through the crowd. When* he reached the captain 
he said, after shaking hands : “ Are you not a day 
overdue ? I looked for you yesterday.” 

“ Not a bit of it, not a bit of it.” 

“ At any rate, we beat you in,” pointing to the 
“ Sally Lunn ” lying in dock. “ Came in day before 
yesterday.” 

LofC. 


lOO 


MARGOT 


“You did, did you? You mean to tell me you 
crossed in that rotten hulk when the ‘ Willing 
Bark ’ lay at Havre ? ** 

“ I had to, my friend. King Louis and I had a 
little difference, and it was best I give him time 
in which to cool off before he sees me again. I 
did not care to bring you into disfavor, but had I 
known of the treasure your old ship contained, 
I should have braved everything.” And Monsieur 
Desire d’Albert looked at Margot, standing with a 
pleased and surprised look on her face. 

“ The little lady, ah ! ah ! ” the captain said, with 
a smile. “ ’T was about her I wanted to speak with 
you. Let me introduce you — she ’s a country 
woman of your own — Mademoiselle Margot Dan- 
tier, a Huguenot fugitive from Paris, and this is 
her nurse Babette.” 

Desire d’Albert took off his hat with a great 
flourish, then kissed her hand in gallant French 
fashion. 

“How do you do. Little Majesty Two-shoes ? I 
bid you welcome to a new land, and I trust a more 
indulgent one. And you Madame also,” turning 
to Babette with another courtly bow. 

“ It is Monsieur who stopped at the hut near 
Havre for a drink, is it not?” asked Margot, ex- 


NEW AMSTERDAM 


lOI 


citement shining in her eyes. “ How strange to 
meet him here.” 

“ Strange, yet not so strange as the miracle 
Desire d’Albert witnessed, — the scattering of the 
clouds by the dancing of a young lad.” 

Then Desird d’Albert walked off with the captain, 
who told him in a low voice about Margot, and how 
she happened to come over with him. He con- 
cluded by saying : “ As for her father, I ’m afraid 
he ’s rather too valuable a man to let go out of the 
kingdom of France, and is kept a prisoner there. 
It is too bad. She ’s a little darling, too sweet for 
this rough country.” 

Now the captain became fidgetty, knowing his 
men were waiting for orders, and his cargo was to 
be unloaded. 

“ Say, can I leave them in your charge ? ” he said, 
abruptly, with a jerk of his thumb in the direction 
where Margot and her nurse waited. “ Will you see 
them settled at Vrouw Jans.? ” 

“ I know a better place than that, — I shall take 
them to Vrouw Van der Hoef’s — some very good 
friends of mine, who will take them in, I know.” 

“ The very place,” said the captain, who now 
bade farewell to his passengers, almost crushing 
Margot’s small hands in his big brown ones. There 


102 


MARGOT 


was a droll expression on his grim face as he told 
her he would not soon forget his little lady, and 
would come and see her whenever he could find 
time. Then he strode off and was giving his orders 
to right and to left ere they had left the ship. 

The crowd made way for them at a careless word 
or push from Desir^ d’Albert, but followed them 
with gaping mouths, and eyes bursting with curios- 
ity to take in the strangers. Babette held her head 
erect and Margot fast by the hand. Her eyes were 
like stones in their despair ; no curiosity dwelt 
there, only deep disappointment. Was this the land 
they had travelled so many miles to reach ? “ Bon 

Dieu, help us ! ” I can hear her say. Margot looked 
with pleased surprise at the children playing in the 
streets, dressed so differently from the little ones 
at home. Neptune, wildly glad to be on land again, 
ran on ahead, rolling from side to side, as sailors do 
after many days at sea. Women came to their 
doors and stared at them. It was a rare tiling for 

O 

any one to come into the town so beautifully 
dressed as the young French child. When they 
noticed, which was very soon I assure you, her 
dainty red slippers with their golden buckles, they 
shook their heads dubiously. 

Monsieur Desire d’Albert, from the numerous 


NEW AMSTERDAM 


103 

greetings he received, showed he was a person well 
known in New York. More dames than one beck- 
oned to him, intending to have him satisfy their 
curiosity, but he only shook his head as he passed on. 

“You have a fine dog there,” said Monsieur. 
“Did you bring him from France? I do not re- 
member to have seen him at D’oen.” 

“No, Monsieur,” Margot answered; “Captain 
Brown gave him to me. He came to us out of the 
sea, almost dead. A strange thing, was it not?” 
Then she told him about the finding of the dog, and 
how next day they had passed the wreck of a sloop. 
The captain had thought that the dog might 
have come from it ; perhaps the sailors had pushed 
him off as being one too many to feed when they 
had abandoned the boat. 

“ He is quick enough now,” he said, with a smile, 
as Neptune ran ahead of them and scattered some 
ducks that were waddling in a puddle. The ducks 
set up a most woeful quacking, one impudent drake 
even venturing to hiss boldly at them. 

They went down one narrow street and up 
another, while Margot prattled on and on to her 
new friend. She thought him a brave man; was 
he not from her own country ? She opened her 
very heart to him ; told him how unhappy she was 


MARGOT 


104 

about the dear parents, and how she feared she 
might never see them again. She had not dreamed 
that she could do such a thing a few moments 
before, for she was a reserved child, who had 
made few confidences in her short life, except 
to those very near to her. Perhaps it was the great 
but quiet sympathy she read in Desire d’ Albert’s 
face that compelled her to tell him all she hoped 
and feared. Perhaps she felt (intuition is born 
in some) that here was a man indeed, — a man 
who would accomplish whatever he undertook, a 
friend to rejoice in. 

“ Mon Dieu ! Protect us ! ” cried Babette, as she 
grabbed Monsieur by the arm and clung to him as an 
Indian approached. It was the first time she had 
been so near an Indian, and she was frightened out 
of her stoical indifference. Later, as the rest of the 
townspeople, she came to regard them with indif- 
ference, even with contempt for their impotency. 
And she wished she had not, how she wished she had 
not ! 

“ He is an Indian,” said Monsieur ; “ they are as 
plentiful as huckleberries in August hereabouts. 
You will soon get used to seeing them.” 

The man saluted Monsieur, who called him by 
name Meshinauwa, and spoke pleasantly to him. 


NEW AMSTERDAM 


105 

Now having reached the house of Mynheer Van der 
Hoef, Monsieur knocked with the brazen knocker, 
and, upon the immediate answer “ Come in,” pushed 
open the door, and they entered. 

“ How do you do, Vrouw Van der Hoef } ” he said 
to a woman who was seated at her wheel, shaking 
hands with her. “ I bring you guests.” 

“Why, Mynheer — you Where did you come 
from ? I am glad to see both you and your 
friends.” And good housewife Vrouw Van der 
Hoef, noted among the huys-vrouws of New Neth- 
erlands as being the most thrifty, made them wel- 
come. She shook Babette by the hand, but drew 
Margot to her ample bosom and kissed her. Then 
she asked all about them, and Monsieur, with many 
shrugs of his broad shoulders, proceeded to tell all 
he had learned from the captain. 

She listened intently. Here was news — something 
to tell her neighbors over the knitting and the spin- 
ning, and to conjecture whether the parents would 
ever reach New Amsterdam in safety. Again she 
took Margot into her arms, as she said : — 

“ Too bad ! too bad ! Thank God there is room 
enough for all in this country. I shall keep them 
willingly till they can hear from their kinsfolk. Ah, 
here comes Mynheer to add his welcome to mine.” 


MARGOT 


I o6 

Mynheer Van der Hoef was a sturdy, fat Hol- 
lander, and he put them at ease with a hearty 
laugh. 

“ There is enough for all. The attic is full and 
the cellar ready to burst with plenty,” he said. 

“ Now, my Little Majesty Two-shoes, that you are 
settled, I must be off,” said Monsieur to Margot. 
“ I think I shall go from here to Maryland, and I 
shall endeavor to find out all I can of your relatives 
there, and apprise them of your arrival. So it will 
not be long before you will hear from them. Ere 
you see me again many months may have passed, 
as I shall go North by way of the Lakes. Be as- 
sured that when in Canada I shall look out for some 
one of my friends going home to the Mother Coun- 
try, and by them I shall send and find out whether 
Maman has started yet, for any help that Desir^ 
d’Albert can give them they are welcome to, for the 
sake of les beaux yeux of their daughter.” 

From this you will see that Margot had found a 
friend in Monsieur Desire d’Albert, and her heart 
was beating with wild delight. 

“ Oh, wilt thou. Monsieur, wilt thou indeed 't ” she 
cried. Then added solemnly, “ I shall love thee, and 
pray for thee until thou comest again.” 

“ Thank you ; Desir^ d’Albert needs both. No, 


NEW AMSTERDAM 


107 

no, my good Vrouw, do not tempt me ; I am due at 
the Governor s,” he replied, in answer to Vrouw Van 
der Hoefs urgent invitation to stay with them to 
dinner. “ I bid you au revoirr With a kiss on 
Margot’s hand and a sweeping bow to all, he was 
gone. 

“ He is a brave man,” said the Vrouw, as she 
stood with Margot at the door watching Monsieur 
out of sight; “the most intrepid traveller. He goes 
way into the heart of the land, and explores rivers 
and places entirely unknown. Even the Indians 
are friendly to him. He is a favorite with all.” 

Margot and Babette did not understand all of what 
she was saying, but they knew that she was extolling 
their new friend by her tone and a word understood 
here and there, and they quite agreed with her. 

Babette thought every one spoke a different 
tongue in this queer country, and she was not so 
very wrong, as there were at that time eighteen 
different languages spoken in New Amsterdam. 
She was able, however, to assist the Vrouw with the 
dinner when she came to laying the white cloth, and 
good help she was, too. 

Meanwhile Margot had gone to the other side of 
the room, where, in a deep hooded cradle of birch 
bark, lay the most wonderful Dutch baby a little 


io8 


MARGOT 


French girl had ever seen ; a young American, and 
the only heir of the house of Van der Hoef. 

She and Neptune stood and watched it. Its 
rosy cheeks were shining like red apples, so round 
and hard, from out its snowy swathing clothes. It 
looked extremely like the big wax doll Margot had 
left at home. Suddenly, without warning, it opened 
its large blue eyes and then smiled at her, while it 
billed and cooed. Margot's heart was completely 
won. Neptune sniffed the cradle disdainfully, not 
knowing whether to be jealous of the helpless thing 
that lay in it or not. 


Chapter XI 

A COZY KITCHEN 

ROUW VAN DER HOEF was a 
fair Hollander, who wore her hair 
plastered to each side of her head. 
Her daily attire was a voluminous blue 
gown, short enough to show the bright 
red knitted stockings, and stout but serviceable low 
shoes with their silver buckles. She always wore a 
well-starched muslin cap, except on Sundays, when it 
was replaced by an ample silken hood before going 
to meeting. She arose at the crowing of the cocks, 
and her milking was over ere the town herder came 
with his horn calling for her brown-eyed Bess and 
dappled Sally, to take them with the other cattle she 
had collected to the common feeding place. She 
was strong and hearty from wholesome food and 
good cheer, and bore the reputation of making the 
most delicious clekeoks in the whole Dutch colony. 
She never sat down except to her knitting or spin- 
ning, after the housework was done, or to tend to the 



1 lO 


MARGOT 


needs of little baby Jan, who was good. He spent 
most of his time sleeping, as a little Dutch baby 
with a busy mother should. 

The good woman was quite ready at the sound- 
ing of the curfew from the church-bell to get into 
bed, after covering the smouldering red brands of 
fire over with ashes. All through the long night the 
rattle-watch, with his ironbound hour-glass lanthorn 
and rattle, paced up and down the streets and by- 
paths. He shook his rattle at every door and 
called the hour, and stated the weather as “ Three 
o’clock and a fine frosty night.” 

How primitive it was in this colony of New 
Netherlands, or New York, as it was now called. 

The kitchen was the living-room in this home, as 
in most of the colonists’ houses. What a comfort- 
able kitchen it was, occupying with its great length 
and breadth almost all the lower part of the house, 
only a small part being reserved for an out-kitchen. 
It seemed as though some genie might have con- 
veyed it bodily from Holland.' It had an immense 
open fireplace, with a kettle hanging on the crane. 
At its side stood a Dutch oven, where all the cook- 
ing was done, and at such times sent out appetiz- 
ing smells indeed, which made little hungry mouths 
water. 


A COZY KITCHEN 


1 1 1 


The candlesticks and snuffers and other silver, 
used only upon state occasions, were kept on the 
high shelf over the fireplace. The hanging shelves 
at the side of the room held the red Portuguese 
ware, pewter plates, also the silver used daily, as 
the bite-and-stir sugar boxes, and sugar sifter. Near 
by was a spoon rack for holding the spoons. 

The floor was freshly scrubbed and sanded over 
every day. The broom, wielded by the skilful hands 
of Vrouw Van der Hoef, marked it into little squares 
and triangles, and upon occasions even into roses, in 
the most intricate way. But it was not long before 
they were obliterated by the many feet that trod to 
and fro, and Babette thought it a waste of time. Up 
stairs in the tiny spare room where Margot slept 
they stayed longer, for the child used to go in paths 
about her room, to the bed, to the chest of drawers, 
and to the door, so as not to mark out the pretty 
figures. 

Margot loved the kitchen best of all. By the big 
open fire, she had her place on the settle, with 
Neptune at her feet on a rug. There little baby 
Jan had his cradle, and often she would rock him to 
sleep in it. Sometimes the good huys-vrouw would 
lay him in her lap. What bliss to sit then before 
the flaming fire, and, with his skirts pulled up, warm 


1 I 2 


MARGOT 


his fat pink toes. Songs of her own baby days 
would come to her lips — a chanson of love and 
chivalry it might be. Then the low-roofed room 
would echo to martial strains, or perhaps she would 
sing in her lisping way the nursery rhyme of the 
Hollanders caught from the lips of Vrouw Van der 
Hoef. 

‘‘ Trip a troup a troujes 
De vaarken in de boonjes, 

De koejes in de klaver, 

De kaarden in de haver, 

De kalder in de lang gras, 

De eenjes in de water plas. 

So groot myn klein poppetje was.” 

Hearing her, the two women would glance at each 
other and smile, thinking “ now at least she is happy 
and forgets.” 

They had been in this new country more than a 
month, and as yet they had not received any word 
from the Dantier family living in Maryland. Babette, 
not wishing to trust entirely in Monsieur d’Albert, 
had sent a message to them by a pioneer, but whether 
it had ever reached them or not was not known. 
Direful tales were brought by a friendly Indian of 
Indian uprisings and massacres of the settlers 
throughout Maryland. It was doubtful whether 
their messenger ever got to his destination. And 


A COZY KITCHEN 


113 

the old nurse was advised to stay with her charge 
where she was for the present, until a party could 
be found that was going her way. 

The autumn days were passing away, as days will 
do, wdiether passed in enjoyment or in longing and 
anxiety. Babette busied herself in helping the 
huys-vrouw and with her prayers. Margot would 
often be seen with a group of children about her 
as she sat on the stoop in mild weather. She told 
them many a French fairy story in their own Dutch 
language, although brokenly. Great was the mer- 
riment and many the interruptions, as each and 
every one tried to assist her whenever at a loss for a 
word to express her meaning, all of which helped 
her vastly in learning their language. But it was 
not always so. At first the little lads and lasses of 
America did not understand Margot, feared as she 
had been amidst beautiful surroundings, in the very 
lap of luxury. They themselves had had many a 
hardship to endure. So they scoffed and mimicked 
her, called her Little Majesty Two-shoes, in imita- 
tion of Monsieur d ’Alberts gallant manner. By 
degrees she won them over, and now they were 
her warmest partisans. The name Little Majesty 
Two-shoes, however, clung to her, and among them 
all she was known by it quite as much as by Margot. 

8 


MARGOT 


114 

She never cared to join in their sports, but would 
always look on and sinile and nod to them when- 
ever they appealed to her. It was her task to act 
as peacemaker in the many disputes between the 
rough and tumble children. 

There were times when the child wanted to be 
alone, when she felt that her life was different from 
the happy, careless existence of the other children. 
Then she would wander through the town, her face 
pathetic in its sadness. She would go down to 
where the ships landed, for never did a ship cast its 
anchor but she would find out whether any of its 
passengers were from France, and if they knew 
aught of her parents. Ever disappointed, for there 
were few who came from France that landed at that 
port, yet she persevered. If an Indian from some 
one of the friendly tribes near Canada came into 
New Amsterdam she would seek him out and inquire 
of him. She became a well-known person, not only 
among the Dutch and English settlers of the town, 
but also in the tents of the friendly Indians near 
by. Sometimes she would stop, and, sitting on the 
grass in front of a wigwam, chat with the squaws 
about their pappooses, or watch them string clams 
on the long, slender willow twigs to dry for use in 
the winter time. Sometimes she would gather the 


A COZY KITCHEN 


115 

sweet bayberries into a willow basket, given her 
by a squaw, and take them to Vrouw Van der 
Hoef, who made out of them aromatic candles, 
which gave such a pleasant light on a winter’s 
night 

She always looked like a flower, so sweet and 
quaint in her colored silk gowns and dainty shoes, 
for Babette took the same delight in dressing her 
daintily as she had been used to do in Paris. She 
grew tall and slender, even delicate-looking beside 
the rosy-cheeked children of the town. 


Chapter XII 


A RAMBLE IN THE WOODS 



beautiful Sunday — it was a Sun- 
day in Advent — Vrouw Van der 
Hoef dressed herself with great care. 
Her skirts were more ample than 
' usual, and, as a finishing touch, she 
put on her head a fine silken hood but lately come 
from Holland. Margot wore a blue flowered padua- 
soy frock, and her big hat was caught up at the side 
with a long white plume. Around her neck was a 
white fur tippet, and her hands were thrust into an 
immense muff of the same fur. In Babette there 
was no change, save that she carried her head 


higher, if possible, than nature intended, for she was 
proud of the picture always before her — the charge 
she had in keeping. They were going to church. 

Babette had been awakened in the night time by 
Gabriel, who had gone by as was his custom, and in 
a strong voice called out : “ There ’s a heavy frost 
to-night, and all ye who have neglected to cover up 
your vines, ye ’ll have them all nipped.” Upon getting 






SHE WALKED ALL UNCONSCIOUS OF THEIR SCRUTINY 





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4 


A RAMBLE IN THE WOODS 


117 

up, Babette had immediately taken out her mistress’s 
furs, and, when ready for church, insisted upon her 
wearing them, although the white mask laid over 
everything by Jack Frost was by that time dispersed 
by the sun. Perhaps something more than pride 
stirred in Babette’s breast ; a desire to show these 
settlers that hers was no commoner’s child, that 
gold and silver she had, beside great beauty. If 
she wished to make a sensation she succeeded, al- 
though by this time the townspeople were used to 
the dainty child; still many pairs of eyes followed 
Margot as she walked to church, all unconscious of 
their scrutiny. The breezes fluttered her flowing 
skirts and ruffled her short curls. 

The sermon was long. It seemed as if the good 
dominie would never bring his discourse to a close. 
How would you young people like to sit through a 
three-hour sermon ? Such was the length of the 
preachings that the dominies of the Dutch church 
gave. No wonder little tired heads drooped, and 
sleep veiled eyes that fingers vainly tried to prop 
open. You could expect nothing else when the 
older people were not always exempt. Evidently 
the warden’s expectations were different, for when 
the dominie was particularly tiresome or long- 
winded he was kept busy going from one culprit to 


ii8 


MARGOT 


another. He tickled the faces of the older people 
with his long feather, but gave the little lad or 
lass who was either guilty of sleep or play a sound- 
less whack with his stick, which was hardly air. 

Still, everything comes to an end ; and this Dutch 
dominie, blessed with a vehement style of delivery 
(although not tired of the sound of his own voice), 
remembered that there were dinners to be gotten, 
and that he and his people were hungry for them. 
With a loud amen, he dismissed his flock. They 
trooped out, the boys with a rush, anxious to fin- 
ish their laughter, or hear the end of a secret a small 
voice had been trying to tell them all through the ser- 
mon. The older people were more decorous, although 
they too showed by the quickening of their heels 
and the way words came glibly to their lips how 
glad they were to be out in the air again. Some 
hurried on, thinking of the dinner to be prepared ; 
others, men mostly, stayed to discuss the latest news 
brought by a pioneer. 

Neptune was standing at the corner nearest the 
church, waiting for his mistress ; well he knew that 
that spot was the limit. It seemed a waste of time 
to him, the hours spent in that gloomy building 
— you see he was only a dog. He showed his 
pleasure at the approach of Margot by the slow, even 


A RAMBLE IN THE WOODS 


119 

waving of his plume above his back. In anticipa- 
tion he smelt the frost under the leaves, which lay in 
heaps in the hollows of the woods, and he saw him- 
self scattering them. Now he gave a short, glad 
bark or two, and ran after an invisible nothing, which 
would soon take the form of a squirrel. 

After bidding good-by to Vrouw Van der Hoef 
and Babette, they walked through the town on 
toward the woods. How happy they were in each 
other’s companionship! It was delightful to Mar- 
got to watch a rabbit, with ears cocked up, squatting 
on its haunches, looking at her from the corners of 
its eyes; and to see how, at a clumsy jump from Nep- 
tune, it would go scurrying away through the dead 
leaves ; to watch a flock of blue jays scolding in a 
clump of trees ; or a flock of geese on their way to 
the South ; and to discover almost under her feet, 
half out of sight, a cluster of wintergreen berries. 
She always came back from her walks laden with 
pretty trophies of the fall, and that day was no excep- 
tion. When she called to Neptune to come, her 
arms were overflowing with autumn leaves, in all 
their gorgeous colorings. 

“ Come, Neptune,” she called ; then she whistled 
to him, as he was snifling and smelling suspiciously 
about. “ What is ’t, good boy ? Dost want to 


I 20 


MARGOT 


chase more squirrels? Not to-day; ’tis time we 
started back, else we ’ll make the dinner cold wait- 
ing for us, and Babette would not like that.” 

They turned, but they had not gone far when 
an Indian stepped out from behind some bushes. 
This was no unusual occurrence, the woods were 
oft times thick with them. Neptune, with eyes alert 
and ears erect, waited ; but as Margot after a gentle 
greeting was passing the man, he dropped his eyes 
as though caught in a fault, but only for a moment. 
The Indian deliberately stepped before Margot and 
barred her way. 

“Indian no hurt you,” he said; “come to the 
Great Chief Kwasind.” He spoke in a broken dia- 
lect, a mixture of the French and Indian tongues. 
From this the child knew that he belonged to one 
of the Canadian tribes. 

“No,” she answered, and shook her head gently; 
“ no, I cannot go with you to your Chief. I have 
never seen you before, I think.” 

“Yes, you have seen me — you come.” 

“ I must beg you to stand aside and let me pass. 
I tell you again I cannot go.” 

While they were talking, Neptune, who dis- 
approved of the Indian, kept up a low, fierce growl- 
ing, and the Indian kept an eye upon him and a 


A RAMBLE IN THE WOODS 121 


hand upon the hilt of his hunting knife, which was 
stuck in his belt. 

“ Yes, you come. Great Chief Kwasind, who 
knows the way the waters glide ; who knows when 
the Omemee homing flies; who knows when it is 
time for Segwun to wake all sleeping things to life 
again ; who knows ” — now there was great cunning 
in the Indian’s voice — “where the white lady you 
are looking for stays.” 

“ Oh ! oh ! You know something of my mother ” 

“ No, I no know. Great Chief knows all things.” 

“ Of course I will go with you. Why did you not 
tell me so at once.” Margot was all eagerness now% 
“ But first we must go and tell Babette where we 
are going.” 

The wiley Indian gave a great grunt, as he said : 
“No, no. You come now, or Chief break camp 
and be gone — to-night — and you see him no 
more.” 

“ Will you bring me back to this place if I go 
with you, when I have learned about Maman ? ” 

“Yes, I bring you back.” 

“ How far is Chief Kwasind’s camp ? ” 

“No far,” he answered shortly. 

Margot no longer hesitated; indeed she was all 
eagerness to be off on their errand. She put be- 


I 22 


MARGOT 


hind her the thought that it was a dangerous thing 
to go into an unknown country with a strange 
Indian. She had heard many a story of children 
stolen by the Indians who had never come home 
again; and Babette would fret herself sick till she 
got back. But with a brave heart and a light foot- 
step she set off with the Indian, saying to herself: 
“ It will be only a few hours ere I come back again 
with the good news — the good news.” She si- 
lenced her conscience by saying that she could not 
miss this opportunity of hearing something of her 
parents ; no one — surely Babette would not blame 
her when she knew all. 

On she followed the Indian, Neptune walking by 
her side ; quiet enough now, poor dog ! all the play 
gone from him, ears, tail, and head drooping. He 
gave vent to his dislike of the whole affair by utter- 
ing a deep growl every now and then. Once he 
gave a tug at his mistress’s frock, as if to say, “ This 
is not the way home; come, let’s go back.” But 
he had been taught to be obedient, and when Mar- 
got shook her head, for she knew what he wished, 
he went on, but dispiritedly. . 

They went through dense forests, and out into 
open places, and then through woods again, meet- 
ing no one, with only a narrow path to guide them. 


A RAMBLE IN THE WOODS 123 

and sometimes not even that. The way was well 
known to the Indian, who led the child onward 
without any qualms. The distance was long to 
Margot, and she wondered what an Indian’s “ no 
far” meant. 


Chapter XIII 

IN KWASIND’S CAMP 

HE knew that they should soon be 
at their journey’s end, for she could 
smell smoke from a camp fire, which 
seemed very near. It was not so near 
as it seemed, however, and it was quite 
awhile before they came upon the Indians. At first 
she could distinguish nothing (coming so suddenly 
into the bright glare of the firelight from the dense 
blackness of the woods) but a number of dusky 
moving forms standing out like silhouetted figures 
in the rosy glow of the fire. Soon they took defi- 
nite shape, and she saw the squaws cooking food 
in huge pots hung from tripods over the fires, which 
young lasses kept fiercely burning by heaping on 
fagots. She saw the braves grouped about in charac- 
teristic attitudes, idle young lads mingling with 
them. Lastly she saw Chief Kwasind seated in their 
centre. 

They were not in war dress, and seemed peace- 
fully inclined. If they were surprised when she 



IN KWASIND’S CAMP 


125 

stepped into their midst with her dog by her 
side, not an Indian showed it. The one who 
brought her did not give them time for much con- 
jecture. He went up to the Chief and immediately 
began talking to him in their own dialect, which of 
course Margot could not understand. The Indians 
all listened, smoking stoically on, and there were no 
comments from them, only an occasional “ ugh” 
from the Chief. The children crowded about her, 
and began to pester her, while the lads at once 
wanted to take possession of Neptune. From out 
the group of listening braves an Indian, tall and 
supple, came and stood before them all. It was 
Meshinauwa, a friendly Narragansett whom Margot 
had often seen in and about Vrouw Van der Hoef’s 
house. She ran to him with a glad cry, flinging off 
her tormentors with a quick gesture. 

“ O Meshinauwa ! I am so glad to see you. I 
did not think there was any one here that I knew. 
I am so glad ! Will you ask the Chief to tell me 
all he knows of my mother, so I may hurry back ? 
I am afraid they will miss me and worry.” 

“Yes, Little Majesty Two-shoes,” he replied, 
using the name he had caught from hearing the 
children call her so. “ I will speak to the Great 
Chief Kwasind.” 


MARGOT 


1 26 

He began eagerly, eloquently, to tell that she was 
a great white child. Little Majesty Two-shoes by 
name, and that she had been set apart by the Great 
Spirit He told how she had come over in a 
big ship, with only her dog; how she wandered 
about and was never molested, looking for a white 
lady ; and he added, moreover, that she was under 
the protection of a big warrior, who would not 
leave one of their tribe alive if any harm came to 
the pale face. 

All might have been well but for this last, which 
angered the Chief so greatly that he started up, 
grasped his tomahawk, and, while waving it threat- 
eningly about, gave Meshinauwa in a few words to 
understand that Kwasind was afraid of no one or 
anything under the stars. Nothing daunted by the 
boastful manner of the Chief, Meshinauwa con- 
tinued to plead that the child be sent back to New 
Amsterdam ; that her people (meaning the people 
with whom she lived) were good people — good to 
the Indians. For a moment, but only fora moment, 
Kwasind appeared to hesitate, but avarice overcame 
him. 

“ No,” he answered. “We no hurt her; take her 
with us and sell her — she bring heep big money.” 

Margot waited patiently, looking anxiously from 


IN KWASIND’S CAMP 127 

one to the other of the men. When there was a 
lull in their talk, and her pleader, with a shrug and a 
resigned look, sat himself down, she saw her oppor- 
tunity to ask the Chief concerning her mother. 

“ Great Chief Kwasind,” she spoke in French, 
“ is it true that you know where my mother is ? ” 

“Yes,” he replied, speaking the same broken lan- 
guage as the Indian who had brought her to the 
camp. “ I take you up to Canada, and there you find 
her.” 

“You have seen her, you have seen her!” she 
cried, her voice breaking in her eagerness. “ Oh, 
do please tell me all about her, do please 1 ” 

“ No. You wait. We break camp to-morrow 
early and go to Canada.” 

“ But I cannot go with you to Canada without 
letting Babette know. Surely you will tell me 
about my dear mother first — ’t was only for that I 
came.” 

He answered her never a word. She realized 
that nothing was to be gotten from him, and disap- 
pointment deep as the sea fell upon her. 

“ Come, we must go,” she said, stepping up to the 
Indian with whom she had come. “ I am sorry to 
trouble you, but it grows so late, and they will worry 
about me at home.” 


MARGOT 


1 28 

She waited a few seconds for him to get up from 
where he was sitting, but he never budged an inch, 
which she thought very rude, so at last she said : — 

“ If you are too tired, mayhap Meshinauwa will 
take me,” looking toward the tall form of Meshi- 
nauwa, who avoided her glance. 

Whether it was the imputation that he was tired, 
or the pleading look in Margot’s eyes he could not 
stand, I know not, but the Indian said, a swift, cruel 
smile crossing his face : — 

“ No ; you go not back, you little prisoner. Take 
you to Canada and sell you. Big warrior want you ; 
he come get you, ugh.” 

“You are a wicked Indian, and have told me a 
lie,” she said, turning from him, with scorn in her 
voice. Still, she did not think they meant to keep 
her, and she turned once more to Kwasind. 

“ Chief, you are great in the land you rule. 
Surely if you have seen my mother, you will not 
withhold it from her child. Long — long have been 
the days since I saw her last ; if you know aught 
I beg of you to tell me.” 

And again he answered her never a word. 

Then Margot felt that she had come upon a mis- 
taken quest indeed, and that she had been her own 
undoing. Meshinauwa even shook his head when 


IN KWASIND’S CAMP 


1 29 

she appealed to him; he could do nothing for her, 
however much he may have wanted to. She was 
ready to cry with disappointment at not learning 
what she had come for, but in her heart a little 
flower blossomed — the flower of hope; perhaps in 
Canada, a settlement of French people, she might 
learn of her mother, perhaps find her there. So she 
turned proudly away from the band of stolid Indians, 
gazing at her with such utter indifference, and con- 
soled herself as best she could with such thoughts. 
She sat down a little apart from the rest, with Nep- 
tune by her side. She laid her hand upon his 
shaggy coat, and wished and wished she were back 
in Vrouw Van der Hoef’s snug kitchen. She shut 
her eyes the better to bring the picture before her : 
the good huys-vrouw and Babette were sitting by the 
fire spinning, no doubt, now the work was done, and 
baby Jan was lying in his cradle, gurgling and coo- 
ing:. For one moment it was so real to her that she 
felt not the children who were tormenting her, nor 
heard the sharp whacking of Meshinauwa’s heavy 
hand, as he sent them off, bidding them let her 
alone under penalty of worse. A squaw rudely 
aroused her from her dream by giving her a shove, 
which almost upset her, while she pointed to some 
supper that she had brought her. 

9 


MARGOT 


130 

Margot thanked her, and tried to swallow a little 
of the unappetizing mess, but utterly failed, and 
Neptune got it all. Then a warm blanket was 
handed her ; and, seeing that the others had wrapped 
themselves in theirs and laid down to sleep, she 
tried to do the same. It was not easy for the tiny 
hands, the handling of the large, rough blanket, 
and it was not over-clean, and her fastidiousness re- 
belled. Still, there was nothing else to do, no one 
to help her, and it was cold; necessity taught her 
to help herself, and she succeeded in rolling herself 
in the blanket, and Neptune stretched himself at 
her side. 

If the thought of escape entered her tired brain, 
it did not stay in it long. Escape — with an Indian 
sitting before the fire, never closing his eyes, but 
smoking — smoking ? Great clouds of smoke came 
from his pipe, and encircled him about like a cloak. 
He looked to her excited imagination like one of 
those pictures of demons in the illuminated books 
she had oft pored over in her own France — dear 
France — farther away than ever now. 

Wrapped in her blanket, she knelt and said a 
prayer, felt of her miniature to be sure it was safe, 
snuggled close to Neptune, and fell asleep. 

Early next morning they were on the move, and 


IN KWASIND’S CAMP 131 

so continued, only stopping to eat and at night to 
sleep. On — and on — and on — they went. 

There came a day before they reached their des- 
tination when Margot could go no farther. The 
blue shoes were in shreds; the pretty frock was in 
rags, and covered with briers ; the fur muff and 
tippet and hat adorned some one else’s neck and 
head. Her feet were all scratched and bleeding. 

She stopped and faltered, “ I can go no farther.” 
Neptune squatted at her side, and pulled the load 
he was dragging down also, and there he waited. 

“You go on,” said an Indian nearest her in a 
threatening tone. 

Margot shook her head, too exhausted to speak, 
while Neptune growled. 

“You go on,” again the Indian said, but this time 
he raised his whip in a menacing manner over Mar- 
got’s head. Quick as you have seen a star drop in 
the heavens, Neptune jumped upon him. The load 
containing blankets and utensils, which was fastened 
to him, was as nothing in his fury. Down they fell 
in a heap, dog, Indian, and load, all mixed together 
in the fight. Now could the Indian have gotten his 
hand on his knife, or Neptune his grip on his ene- 
my’s throat, it would have gone hard with either. 
But Neptune, being overburdened with the weight 


MARGOT 


132 

of his load, now that the man lay still beneath him, 
was content to keep him so. 

Meshinauwa, who had seen the fight from the file 
ahead where he was walking, came back to them. 
He bade Margot call the dog off, telling her that he 
would not let the Indian hurt them. He rather en- 
joyed the other’s discomfiture, and peremptorily bade 
him go on, and molest Little Majesty Two-shoes no 
more. He saw that Margot was utterly unable to 
move ; and he made a swing on his back, and, put- 
ting her in it, bore her much as the squaws did their 
pappooses. He trotted all day with his burden in 
perfect ease. Neptune, now satisfied, walked beside 
them. 

Margot felt better when they reached their next 
halting-place, having slept throughout the entire day 
on Meshinauwa’s back. After she had pecked at 
some of the Indian food, even as a bird might, she 
cuddled herself up in her blanket by Neptune, and 
thought she would take a peep at her miniature be- 
fore sleeping. It was not often she allowed herself this 
pleasure. She had been despoiled of most everything, 
and it seemed almost a miracle that the bright eyes 
of some one of the children had not discovered the 
hiding-place of her miniature. It had been a great 
comfort to her, and she never slept (if she feared to 


IN KWASIND’S CAMP 


133 

look at it) without at least feeling if it were safe. 
She put her hand into the little pocket hidden 
beneath the folds of her dress; she was kneeling, 
her blanket tight about her, head and all. Her 
hand touched — nothing.- It was gone! She got 
up and shook out her dress ; she felt on the ground 
about her; she turned her pocket inside out; she 
peered in among the leaves and bracken ; and then 
she gave it up for lost. She turned to Neptune 
(who was nosing about, trying to help her, although 
he knew not what it was all about) and cried : — 

“ I have lost it, my miniature, I have lost it I ’’ 
Tears ran down her thin cheeks, which Neptune 
licked off as fast as they came. 

Meshinauwa heard this unusual weeping and came 
to her. He wanted to know what ailed* Little 
Majesty Two-shoes. 

“ I have lost something. Didst see it, good 
Meshinauwa, a little picture wrapped in a velvet 
cloth .? ’’ 

“No, I no see,” he replied, with averted eyes; 
“you lost it? Never mind; you get another.” 

“ Never,” she said, with trembling lips. “ It was 
my mother’s, and she gave it to me the last thing 
before I left my home in France. What shall 
I do ? ” 


MARGOT 


134 

The Indian tried to pacify her in his rough way, 
but Margot refused to be cornforted. All night long 
with her arms about Neptune’s neck, her hair min- 
gling with his shaggy coat, between her sobs she 
prayed that she might find her miniature again. 

The next morning it was a very worn and spent 
child that Meshinauwa took upon his back. Toward 
evening they began to see dwellings scattered along 
a river, and from the Indians’ talk Margot knew 
that they were reaching a Canadian settlement. 


Chapter XIV 

A COBBLER OF FORT ST-L 

T was a very medley of a winter s day. 
Great flakes of snow came down 
one moment, to be followed the 
next by hail, and that in turn by 
tiny flakes, so tiny as to feel like rain. 
The snow had drifted into heaps, for the storm 
had been of some days’ duration. The wind blew 
a gale, and took up the snow and flung it sportively 
about. It whistled through the branches and made 
eddying circles about the trunks of the trees, and 
altogether conducted itself in a riotous manner. 
It was a storm as furious as you might expect to 
see on the frozen steppes of Siberia. The branches 
of the fir trees were bowed almost to the ground 
with their weight of snow ; as for the shrubs and 
bracken, they lay low on the bosom of mother earth, 
completely buried in the drifts. The houses and 
huts scattered here and there among the trees 
were covered with her white mantle, and looked 
like little cotton toy houses. 



MARGOT 


136 

Such was the day when Meshinauwa, with another 
Indian, by name Winka, entered the outposts of a 
Canadian fort. They stumbled on, half blind from 
the snow. In Meshinauwa’s arms nestled Margot, 
and he was bent double with his burden, and white 
as a snow man. 

Meshinauwa had been kind to Margot. Perhaps 
it was because she had expected nothing else from 
him ; had given him to understand that she looked 
upon him as her only friend among the Indians 
after Neptune. Perhaps it was because he knew 
that the right hand of Desir^ d’Albert was heavy, 
and did not hesitate to fall. Desire d’Albert was 
cosmopolitan enough to borrow the motto of the 
English throne — “ Dieu et mon droit ” — think- 
ing it a good one, and he knew, moreover, how 
to carry it out to the letter, to the dismay of his 
enemies. 

Little Majesty Two-shoes! Where now were 
the exquisite shoes that were wont to set off a pair 
of daintily moulded feet, and that danced so de- 
murely over the fallen leaves, seeming to hardly 
touch them, that Sunday so long ago } Gone were 
the silken stockings, gone the kid bottines, not one 
vestage left, not one blue scrap. About her feet 
were leather moccasins many sizes too large, so 


A COBBLER OF FORT ST-L 137 

that straw had been used to hold them on, and also 
to add warmth. The child was more ragged than 
any beggar who slunk along the byways of Paris. 
Could Mike, that rough-hearted lad, have seen her 
now, he would not have been able to call forth one 
tiny jeer; his black eyes would only have opened 
wide in his astonishment. The child from Paris, 
Margot Dantier, Little Majesty Two-shoes — call 
her what you will — had indeed fallen upon evil 
days. She had lost her dog Neptune. This was 
how it happened. A few leagues from the fort of 
St“L, where they had last rested, an Indian had tied 
the dog to a stake. He submitted good-naturedly, 
having early learned that the best way to please 
his mistress was to be docile. Margot asked the 
man why he did so, for they had always been 
allowed their freedom — for the Indians well knew 
that the child could not escape, and that the dog 
would not leave his mistress. He answered her 
brutally : “ Dog he stay with us ; be good to haul 
and fetch. You go when you get rested.” 

Margot did not at first grasp his meaning, being 
so nearly exhausted, and again she did not think 
it possible that they would be so cruel to her. Not 
having been particularly kind, they yet had not 
been needlessly severe with either of the prisoners 


MARGOT 


138 

on the march. ’T is true, Neptune had a heavy load 
to drag, so that his feet were cut and bruised from the 
stones and bracken, but he was a strong dog. They 
all had some burden to bear, and bore it uncomplain- 
ingly. She could not think that they would dare 
do this wicked deed — that God would look down 
and allow them to carry it out. 

When she found that they really meant to keep 
her dog, for they soon made it plain enough even 
to her doubting senses, she begged and pleaded with 
the Chief to let her stay with them. It was the 
first time she had spoken to Kwasind since that 
night when she had pleaded so earnestly with him 
to let her know if he had really heard anything of 
her mother. She told him that she would work, 
she was strong (which the trembling of her limbs 
and the pinched face and hollowness of her eyes 
belied), she would gather the wood for the fires ; 
do anything if they would not take her dog from 
her. Did they not know that Captain Hezekiah 
Brown gave him to her, she asked him. Again he 
answered her neither yea nor nay; paid no more 
heed to her piteous pleadings than he might have 
to the buzzing of a big fly. 

“ Thou art a wicked Chief,” she said at last, fixing 
solemn eyes upon him. “Dost not know that it is 



ANGERED THE CHIEF SO GREATLY THAT HE STARTED UP 









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A COBBLER OF FORT ST-L 139 

stealing to take my Neptune from me ? God will 
punish thee, and when my good friend Desire 
d ’Albert finds that thou hast stolen my Neptune, I 
doubt not but he will kill thee.” 

The Chief started up, and, as he waved his toma- 
hawk close about her head, began to boast of his 
many conquests and of the scalp locks which hung 
at his girdle. Then did Margot, who was gray to 
the lips, think that her last hour had come. With 
eyes that saw not, she looked at him, and to her lips 
came a prayer. But Kwasind had no intention of 
slaying her, else had he done so before to save the 
burden of feeding one more. With a grunt of 
pleasure at the thought of how he had frightened 
the child (although she stood bravely before him, no 
muscles quivering), he quietly slipped his tomahawk 
back in its place and sat down. 

Knowing all pleading would be in vain, she turned 
away, and went to where her dog was picketed. 
She threw her arms about his neck for the last time 
and laid her face close to his. 

“ Be good, my dog Neptune,” she whispered, “so 
they will not hurt thee. Le petit bon Dieu will 
help us, I am sure.” 

The dog began to whine, as if he knew what she 
was saying, and Margot tried not to restrain the big 


140 


MARGOT 


tears which rolled down her face. She stayed by 
him, patting him and whispering sobbing words in 
his ear, until the others were ready to go. Then 
she left him, after kissing the white star on his fore- 
head and murmuring, “ Good-bye, good-bye.” Nep- 
tune let out a most disconsolate howl, and pulled at 
his rope, making such strenuous efforts to get loose 
that even the descending whip in the Indian’s hand 
had no power to make him desist. 

Margot’s eyes were so full of tears that she could 
not see where she was going. She took a few 
tremulous steps, her arms out, groping like a blind 
person, staggered, and then fell. Good Meshinauwa 
picked her up in his arms, and so they came into 
the fort. 

As the men plodded through the snow toward 
the more thickly settled part of the fort, Meshi- 
nauwa, with his load, ran into a man coming from 
the opposite direction. The man walked with his 
head bent downward to keep the snow from his eyes, 
and was evidently hurrying to his home, the sooner 
to be out of the storm. He was dressed from head 
to foot in wolf-skins, and he carried, swung over 
one shoulder, a number of tanned hides, and over 
the other a string of shoes to be mended. He was 
a cobbler, known throughout Canada as a good 


A COBBLER OF FORT ST-L 141 

workman and an honest man. His name was Simon 
Farge. 

“Halloo there! Can’t you see a fellow.?^” he 
cried out, in a comical voice, as he stopped and, 
throwing back his head, brushed the snow from his 
face with his hand. “ Halloo you, who are you, and 
what do you mean by nearly knocking a fellow 
down ” 

Meshinauwa, who had recovered from the collision, 
was slipping quickly past, but Simon grabbed his 
blanket with a strong hand, and effectually stopped 
him. 

“ Don’t be in such a hurry. Ah I I see — it is 
Meshinauwa and Winka. What have you there, 
and where are you going in such a rush ? ” he 
asked, as he pulled the blanket from Margot’s face, 
which gleamed pale as the drifted snow about them 
from the shadow of its dark folds. “ I see — a little 
pale face.* Dead, I see, too.” The Indians grunted, 
and both peered into the child’s face with its closed 
eyes, and then they gave another big grunt of 
disgust. 

“ I see. It is a stolen child. You were going to 
take her to the governor and get the reward, eh ? 
Stolen from the English colonies, eh? Not this 
time, and it serves you right, serves you right.” 


142 


MARGOT 


After a moment, seeing the disgust on Winka’s 
face, for nothing seemed to escape his eyes, which 
w^ere as bright as a bird’s, he continued : — 

“Yes, dead, quite dead, I’m afraid. You get 
nothing for a dead child — better give her to 
me. I will give you one bale of tobacco for her, 
dead or alive. If she lives and her people ran- 
som her, I will give you half; if she dies, I wdll 
bury her. Come to my house, and I wdll draw 
up the paper.” 

The Indians were glad to make any kind of a bar- 
gain, for they thought Margot dead. A bale of 
tobacco was of considerably more value to them than 
any child, whether dead or alive. After a grunt or 
two, and trying to induce Simon to make it two 
bales, but he would not be moved from his original 
proposition, they turned and went with him to his 
hut. 

Simon’s domicile w^as a cozy house built of logs 
and plastered over. A loft was above, entered by a 
pair of steps. Down stairs it consisted of one room, 
large and neat, although there was no woman near, 
and Simon was his own housekeeper. On one side 
there was a brick fireplace, with its chimney built 
on the outside. The fire had gotten low, for Simon 
had been out along time, but the kettle, hanging on 


A COBBLER OF FORT ST-L 143 

the crane, still simmered. On the far side of the 
fireplace was a bed, which was folded up, but could 
be let down on hinges. On the near side were the 
bench and cobbler tools, with a model or two, for 
Simon Farge was a shoemaker as well as a cobbler. 
Little enough trade he had at making shoes, as the 
Canadian settlers had them mostly sent from home ; 
the squaws making their moccasins and leggings. 
Simon had all the patching he could do and 
more, so he made a comfortable living, since he 
had only himself to care for, having long ago laid 
his wife and only child to rest in the small church 
graveyard. 

They entered the house, and Simon, throwing 
down his pack in one corner, went to the bed and 
let it down. He bade Meshinauwa put the child 
upon it. He turned next to a tiny table, and took 
from its drawer an ink horn and pen. He then 
wrote in a labored manner: — 

The English prisoner, given to Simon Farge this day in 
the year of our Lord 1685, has been paid for by Simon 
Farge with one bale of tobacco to Indians Meshinauwa and 
Winka. If she lives to be ransomed by her people, half 
shall go to me and half to Indians named 

“ [ Signed ) SiMON Faroe. 

“ Meshinauwa, 
Winka.” 


MARGOT 


144 

He read this aloud to them when he had finished, 
and underneath it they drew the totems of their 
tribes. 

“ Come in a week or so and see if she lives ; but 
I fear me, I fear me,” he said, as he gave them the 
tobacco. 

Meshinauwa went to the cot whereon Margot lay, 
apparently dead, and he was troubled in his heart, 
and murmured: “Little Majesty Two-shoes, too 
bad! too bad!” And he went out softly. Winka 
went off chuckling at what he thought a good bar- 
gain. Then Simon Farge smiled too, and with 
perhaps greater cause. 


Chapter XV 

LITTLE MAJESTY TWO-SHOES 


IMON smiled again, as he waited 
near the door until he had heard the 
last of their retreating footsteps, when 
he hasped the latch, drew the muslin 
curtain closer about his window, and 
then went to mend the fire. He blew up the embers 
with a pair of bellows, put on a log of wood, and 
turned the crane so that the kettle should be directly 
over the growing flame. He watched it for a mo- 
ment with a critical look, and, satisfied that he should 
soon have a roaring fire, his next act was to goto an 
old wardrobe at the far end of the room, where he 
opened a drawer and reverently took from it a faded 
calico night-dress. As he unfolded this he pressed 
it to his trembling lips, and a faint sweet odor of 
lavender was wafted through the room. He knelt 
by the bed, and gently as a woman undressed the 
child, and put upon her the sweet, clean night-gown. 
His face puckered itself in pain when he saw the 
condition of her feet and hands, torn and calloused. 



10 



MARGOT 


146 

and the haggardness of her face and the thinness of 
her body. He bathed, rubbed, and anointed her. 
Soon he had his reward, for the gentle rising and 
falling of her chest told him that she was indeed 
alive. 

The kettle by this time was merrily singing. He 
took it off the hob and made a good strong drink of 
some herbs which he had previously taken from the 
rafters overhead. Indeed, there were many things 
tucked away in Simon’s hut of which the casual 
observer would never have dreamed. 

This drink he forced down Margot’s throat very 
carefully, so as not to spill a drop on her fresh night- 
dress, and then he covered her up closely. 

As he listened to catch the regular breathing of 
the child, a delighted sigh escaped him, and he rubbed 
his hands behind his back, a way he had when either 
pleased or agitated. His work done, he sat himself 
down to await developments. 

Looking in the fire, he saw pleasant pictures ; his 
face softened, even the wrinkles were smoothed out 
for a time. Was the little hut to echo once more 
to the prattle of a child’s voice Were the old 
rafters to resound to a child’s laughter.?* Were the 
worn boards to squeak beneath the tread of a child’s 
dancing step.?* He asked himself these questions, 


LITTLE MAJESTY TWO-SHOES 147 

and his heart beat hopefully, encouragingly, as it an- 
swered him yes. Truly God was good, and Mother 
Mary also. They knew his loneliness and had not 
forgotten him, but had sent him this child. She 
was his (he hugged the thought hungerly); he 
had bought and paid for her. If her people came — 
ah ! that was an ugly thought, and he put it from 
him. 

Between dozing, every now and then he would 
start up and go and look at his patient. All night 
he kept his solitary vigil while the child slept. 

In the morning, after he had had his breakfast 
(he remembered with a smile that he had eaten no 
supper the night before), he seated himself by the 
fire, and began pegging away at a shoe with an 
immense gaping toe, which he would soon make 
neat and whole again with a simple piece of leather. 

Margot opened her eyes, looked at the quaint 
figure seated on a stool before the open fireplace, 
then wearily closed them again. She listened to the 
clunk, clunk, of the little wooden pegs that were 
being pounded into the sole of the shoe. Where 
had she heard just such a noise as that ? It was 
strangely familiar to her. She thought and thought, 
but could not recall it. And who was that little old 
man ? Had she ever seen him before ? She could 


148 MARGOT 

not tell. Again she opened her eyes and looked at 
him. 

Let me make you see what Margot saw. A little 
old man, not so old as he looked, however, for hard 
work and great exposure had seamed his face before 
his time into a myriad of wrinkles, which began at 
his forehead and extended down both his cheeks to 
his chin. His nose was long, and his chin square 
and firm. His eyes were small, deep set, and a 
bright, keen gray. He was smooth shaven. Low 
down on his nose were steel-bowed spectacles. 
When he looked over the tops of them, as he often 
did, for he needed them only for his work, you 
caught such a benign expression in their depths 
that you could not fail to know that goodness ruled 
his heart. He was dressed in small clothes of heavy 
worsted, a brown woollen shirt, knitted stockings 
and heavy low shoes. He looked extremely neat. 

Simon Farge had lived in Canada for twenty 
years and more. He had buried his wife and only 
child, the idol of his heart, years ago. They 
had both died of a fever, brought on by poor food or 
the scarcity of it during the time when very little of 
anything was sent from the mother country, and 
so many of her children perished. Yes, those were 
hard times; many heads became white in a few 


LITTLE MAJESTY TWO“SHOES 149 

years, faces became seamed from grief and care. 
You could hardly tell the old from the young, and 
the graveyard became fat with new-made mounds. 
Then better times came ; and although Simon never 
threw off his prematurely old look, his heart was 
young. The Indians knew him well and trusted 
him. His crust was always divided with the poor 
that came to his door, and he was looked upon by 
all with great kindliness. 

“ If it please thee, who art thou ? ” a weak voice 
asked. 

Simon jumped up and almost ran toward the bed, 
he was so delighted to hear the voice of the child. 

“ Well, well, so you are awake ? How do you 
feel.^^” 

“ I feel very tired,” she answered. 

“ Do you, eh ? Why, of course you do. Wait 
until Simon gets you some broth ; then we shall 
see.” 

While he busied himself warming her some strong 
broth, Margot watched him anxiously, and again 
said: 

“ If it please thee, who art thou ? Have I ever 
seen thee before ? I cannot remember.” 

“ No, dear little miss, you have never seen me 
before to my recollection. My name is Simon 


MARGOT 


150 

Farge, a cobbler of Fort St-L in Canada, and your 
very humble servant to command.” 

“ Is this Canada.f^ ” 

“ A small part of it, dear miss.” 

Now the gruel being ready, he fed her very deftly. 
While Margot was eating — she was hungry and it 
was good — her eyes kept looking from the sleeve 
of her colored night-dress up into Simon’s face and 
back again. 

“ Dost know how I came here ? ” she asked, in 
an anxious voice. 

“ Yes,” he answered her, in a soothing tone. 
“ Shut those tired eyes and sleep now ; when strong 
enough, I will tell you all about it.” 

Back she snuggled in the soft, warm bed, and 
soon was fast asleep again. When she awakened, 
the sun had come up in the east and gone part way 
down again, and Simon was sitting in the same 
place as if he had not moved. Moreover, he was 
still pegging at his work. 

She sat up in bed, and, after looking about the 
large room, and at Simon with a puzzled air, said : 

“ I think I will get up, if I may.” 

“ Certainly, dear miss, certainly. I will get your 
clothes.” 

Sure enough, those were her own clothes, brushed. 



HE FED HER VERY DEFTLY 




LITTLE MAJESTY TWO-SHOES 151 

mended, and dried. Surely that was her own blue 
frock, although faded and patched. She had never 
had a patch on a frock before, and she fingered it 
doubtfully. 

She gave a vague, uneasy sigh and shook her 
head, as if to bring her thoughts together. It was 
of no avail. Everything relating to her past was a 
blank. 

When she was washed, and her hair, so full of 
tangles and matted to her head, was brushed into 
ringlets about her neck, she looked herself, only a 
slighter, daintier copy. 

Simon, as he watched her, kept rubbing his hands 
together. Then he bade her sit down and eat the 
food he had placed on the little table. 

“ Tell me, dear miss, what is your name ? ” 

“ My name,” she repeated, slowly ; “ what is my 
name.f^ Little Majesty Two-shoes, that is it. No, 
no ; but I seem to hear some one call me that.” 
She looked down at her feet, on which Simon had 
put stockings of his own child’s, and a tiny pair of 
moccasins. “My name — how strange I do not 
know what it is. I have forgotten it. Dost know 
it.f^ ” she added, appealing to him. 

“ No, dear miss, I do not. I forgot to ask the 
rascals. But never mind, never mind,” seeing Mar- 


MARGOT 


152 

gofs face fall, and a disappointed look come into 
it ; “ they will be here in a few days, and then we 
shall know all about it. Little Majesty Two-shoes 
is a good enough name until then. In a short time 
I doubt not but you will remember all.” 

“Little Majesty Two-shoes! Little Majesty 
Two-shoes! Why ‘Little Majesty Tw^o-shoes ’ ” 
she murmured ; and she looked again at her feet. 
She crossed her legs and slipped off one of the 
moccasins and held it in her hand. “ These are 
very pretty slippers. I never saw any like them 
before, such dear, colored beads! Where did I 
get them ? Are they mine ? ” 

“Yours, dear miss,” he answered. “They are 
Indian moccasins, and they belonged to my dear 
child. She would ask you to accept of them if she 
were here, as I do now. I remember when I gave 
them to her. It was on her birthday — how pleased 
she was as she put them on and danced up and 
down the length of this room, her skirts held up to 
show them off.” 

“ And where is she now, good Simon ? ” 

“Where the innocent are — in Paradise. She 
died m^ny years ago.” 

“Dead! Poor Simon! Dost live all alone in 
this little house } ” 


LITTLE MAJESTY TWO-SHOES 153 

“ All alone, dear miss.” 

“ All alone ! all alone ! God must have pitied 
thee, Simon, and sent me to take the place of thy 
dead child.” 

“ God is good, dear miss.” 

“ But thou hast not told me, good Simon, how I 
came to thee.” 

“ Meshinauwa and Winka, two Indians, brought 
you. Can you not remember your home ? ” 

■ “Indians and my home ” she said, in astonish- 
ment. “No; it is all a blank. I can remember 
nothing; but I seem to have lost something. Did 
I not have something with me, good Simon, when 
they brought me ? ” 

“Nothing, Little Majesty Two-shoes,” he said, 
with a smile, as he recalled the forlorn condition of 
the child, “ but what you have on and an old 
blanket, which they carried off.” 

Simon watched her as she resumed her meal. 
He noticed the dainty way she ate, the exquisite cut 
of her features, and a great overwhelming pity for 
her came over him that brought a film before his 
eyes. Poor child ! what must she have endured to 
have so affected her brain as to leave memory a 
blank. How remiss he had been in not finding out 
all he could from the Indians. Now he would have 


MARGOT 


^54 

to wait until they came to find whether she lived or 
died. 

Margot took her stool and sat by the fire, while 
watching Simon at his work. She became more 
puzzled as the daylight grew dimmer, and the light 
in the room took on a grayness, and the firelight, 
playing on Simon’s hands, made them the most 
easily discerned things in the room. She watched 
them plying in and out of his work. She began to 
murmur, as if talking almost unconsciously: 

“ Good Simon, as I half shut my eyes, it looks 
hazy, as dreams do in the morning before I am quite 
awake. I see a work-room — a big, big work-room, 
with high windows in it, which throw the light down 
into the dark room upon the heads of many men 
who are stitching there. Yes, yes” — there was now 
a faint quiver of excitement in her voice — “ they are 
making shoes; such pretty shoes! Flash, flash, go 
the needles in and out of the leather, and I can 
smell the burning wax and smoke from the flame. 
Many little wooden pegs lie upon the floor ; pails 
of water stand about; piles of shoe models lie in 
the corners ; and great stacks of leather are heaped 
upon the floor. There is one of the men who looks 
like thee, — yes, quite like thee, only his face is 
redder. Near him is a little girl not unlike me, only 


LITTLE MAJESTY TWO-SHOES 155 

she hath long, golden curls that are always getting 
in her way ; they bother her, and she brushes them 
impatiently aside. She is so happy sitting there 
among those men, who are so good and so merry. 
Every now and then one breaks out into a song, 
and the others take it up ; soon they all sing, the 
treble and the bass sometimes ringing loud above 
the others and completely drowning them out. 
Where have I seen it all ? It is so real, so real to 
me ! ” 

“ It does seem strange,” Simon said, gazing at her 
intently. “ Perhaps you dreamed it while lying in 
yonder bed.” 

“Yes; perhaps I did, and that is why when I 
first opened my eyes and looked about this room it 
was so new and yet so very old to me.'’ 

“We will not bother about the old, only think of 
the new ; and that is that you are Simon’s little 
miss. Try and be happy, for the good God does all 
things for the best.” 

“I will remember. If God wishes I should re- 
member my old life, He will bring it about.” 

And so Margot began a new life under Simon 
Farge’s hospitable roof. 


Chapter XVI 

WILL NO ONE TAKE UP AN OLD 
WOMAN’S CAUSE? 

ET US go back somewhat, back to 
that day when Margot went so 
peacefully to church, and then dis- 
appeared so mysteriously. In the 
hearts of the people congregated in 
Vrouw Van der Hoef’s cozy Dutch home, there 
was great consternation and fear. 

Babette went to the end of the street a dozen 
times. She looked up and down, and still no sight 
of the child was to be had. After she had been 
everywhere that she had ever heard of Margot’s 
going, the hour being late, she could stand it no 
longer. So Gabriel was called upon, and he went 
through the town, crying : “ Lost, Margot Dantier, 
ye little French child, sometimes called Little Ma- 
jesty Two-shoes ! Had on a blue paduasoy frock, 
and a bonnet, and two blue kid shoes. Lost ! 
Lost ! ” and he rang his bell loudly. 




“ LOST ! ” 








AN OLD WOMAN’S CAUSE 157 

No one remembered anything of the French child 
after she had left the meeting, save one old dame, 
who said that she had seen her going toward the 
hills, with her dog beside her, and her blue gown 
fluttering in the breeze. 

“ An’ she made so winsome a picture I watched 
her, ’til she grew small and smaller, and vanished 
out of sight yonder,” the old dame muttered, while 
she pointed with her long, bony finger toward the 
distant hills, and shook her grizzled head mourn- 
fully. “ The Indians ! The Indians ! I ’m feered 
ye ’ll ne’er see her more.” 

The old dame leaned upon her crutch, as she 
stood out in the street, and seemed almost to take 
pleasure in telling over and over again the same 
thing, adding that she had seen many a brave lass 
like that, decked out in all her finery so sweet and 
pretty, and then the Indians would come, and the 
little lass would be no more — gone out like a can- 
dle in a gust of wind. 

Such ominous mumblings almost drove Babette 
distracted, and she ran everywhere, the tears stream- 
ing down her cheeks and *her hair all blown awry. 
Poor old Babette ! What cared she ? Her charge 
was lost — lost in those dreadful woods ! 

What answer should she make to Sieur Dantier, 


158 MARGOT 

when he asked her for his child ? The more she 
thought of the weird things she had heard since her 
arrival in the New World, the more like a mad 
woman she became. She would have wandered out 
into the woods alone had she not been restrained. 

The good Mynheer tried to appease her by say- 
ing, “ Come, do not take on so, dame. I have got 
two Indian runners, and have sent them upon the 
trail to see if they can trace her. We must wait. 
’T will not be long before they find some trace of the 
child. They may even find her and bring her back; 
if not, we shall at least know where to look for her. 
As ’tis now, ’tis like looking for a needle in a hay- 
stack.” 

The people, feeling confident that Margot had 
been stolen, went back to their homes. Little ones 
clung in half affright to their mothers’ skirts. No 
impatient words fell from parents’ tongues, however 
unruly their children were that night. Many a 
mother, as she cuddled her darlings to her heart, 
gave them more kisses than usual, and thanked God 
for their safety. 

Lights were put out one by one in the different 
houses, as the people went to rest. Hushed were 
the streets where all had been tumult, so still, so 
still. Back to the deserted house went the Van der 


AN OLD WOMAN’S CAUSE 159 

Hoef family. It looked to Babette as though pale 
death had laid his icy hand upon it, so silent, so 
lonely it was without the presence of the child 
and her dog. Baby Jan, safe in his mother’s arms, 
blinked and blinked, and no doubt wondered what 
it all meant. 

“ Come, good Babette,” coaxed the Vrouw, “ come, 
do not fret so. Take this dish of tea or some of 
this hot posset that I have made for you. You 
must not be sick. If they find the child and bring 
her home, she may need you.” 

The idea that Margot might need her was enough, 
and the old nurse swallowed the posset at a gulp. 
Then she relapsed into a stony apathy, nor would 
she go to bed, but sat by the fire all the long night, 
waiting, waiting. 

The next day toward dusk the Indians returned. 
They had travelled many miles since the night be- 
fore, following the trail of the child and her dog. In 
among the leaves they had found a tiny silver buckle 
which had fastened one of the blue kid shoes. 
Babette took it in her trembling hands, and hugged 
it to her breast, while she burst into tears. About 
five miles from the town as the crow flies, another 
trail had been added to the two straggling ones — 
an Indian’s. Then they led farther and farther 


i6o 


MARGOT 


away from the town to a camping ground, where 
there had been many Indians. Heretofore there 
had been no desire to hide the trail ; now all was 
changed. The ashes were scattered, and all an 
Indian’s sagacity and cunning had been brought to 
work to hide all traces as if the party feared pursuit. 
But Indian cunning was pitted against Indian cun- 
ning in this case, and the runners still managed 
to follow the trails, although now with difficulty. 
They led to the Hudson River, where beneath over- 
hanging banks canoes had been in hiding. In these 
the whole party must have embarked, and either 
crossed to the other side or drifted down the stream, 
the Indians could not tell which. They knew, how- 
ever, that the Indians with whom the child had gone 
were Canadian Indians from a peculiar bead found 
near the camp. 

No doubt now remained in any one’s mind that 
the child was being taken North, there to be held 
for a ransom. 

“ Come, good woman, cheer up,” cried Vrouw 
Van der Hoef encouragingly to Babette, when the 
Indians had told all they knew of the child. “ We 
shall find her. Remember she has that big dog 
to protect her. We will get together tobacco, and 
Mynheer will hire a party of men to drag it to 


AN OLD WOMAN’S CAUSE i6i 


Canada, and there we shall ransom her. ’T will not 
be long before we have her here again, and see her 
sweet face smiling at us.’’ 

“ Oh, dost thou think so, dost thou think so ? ” 
cried the old dame, taking heart again. “ I will pay 
anything. I have plenty of money ; only let them 
go at once. My poor master and mistress, have 
they not had trouble enough } What if they should 
come now ? I pray God they do not come till I 
have found my nursling. My dear heart ! my dear 
heart! ” 

The two women mingled their tears, while clasped 
in one another’s arms. Vrouw Van der Hoef’s big 
heart ached for the lone woman, and she felt great 
sadness herself, for she too loved the lost child. 

“ Here comes Mynheer ; let us hear what he has 
to say,” said the Vrouw. “ He has been to see the 
governor to ask his advice. Well, well,” she called 
out impatiently to him ere he had mounted the 
stoop, “ what does he say ? ” 

But Mynheer dubiously shook his head, as he 
answered, “It is no good ; he does not think it wise 
to start now. He says that we will not gain any- 
thing by being rash. See the sky. Before night 
we shall have a heavy fall of snow. We would be 
snowbound — he is a wise man and he knows. In 


i 62 


MARGOT 


the spring, when the snows melt, then he promises 
to make up a party and do what he can. And I 
agree with him,” he finished, in his stolid Dutch 
way, that quite upset Babette. 

“ Oh, my lost child ! ” she cried. 

“ They will not harm her, believe me, Dame.” 

“ How dost know ? How dost know ? ” she cried, 
in a fury. “What if it had been baby Jan — 
wouldst thou delay then ? ” 

“ I should have to, if I could not do otherwise.” 

“ If only Monsieur d’Albert were here,” she said, 
turning from him, “he would go, I am sure. He 
was so friendly and so brave. I shall go to the 
governor myself, and see if I cannot find a few brave 
men who will take up an old woman’s cause.” 

So to the governor’s house she hastened, to 
plead with him to lend her aid. He put her off, 
promising to do what he could. Indeed, it was not 
his fault that no one could be found to go, for in 
the town there was a dearth of men just at that 
time, many being away on different expeditions, 
so that the governor feared to let any more leave, 
lest they be attacked by the Indians, and then the 
women and children of the town would suffer. 

Oh, the long winter days, and the longer nights, 
to the desolate woman, who wept and waited! 


Chapter XVII 


THE UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL 

RIP a troup a troujes,” blithely sang 



Vrouw Van der Hoef to baby Jan, 
as she rocked him to slumber, for- 
getful for the moment of the sad- 
hearted Babette. 


“ Sing not that song,” burst out Babette, from 
her corner by the hearth, “ I pray thee, else I go 


mad.” 


“ Forgive me, Babette, I will not,” she softly 
answered, laying down in his cradle the now fast 
asleep baby. 

Just then a knock was heard at the door, and 
before any one could call a welcome, it was thrown 
back with a bang, and Desire d’Albert and a 
young lad walked in. 

“ Well, how do you do, my friends ? I give you 
greeting.” He stopped, having caught the woe- 
begone and changed look upon Babette’s face, and 
her fervent, Thank God ! At last he comes I ” 




MARGOT 


164 

“ What is it ? What has happened ? Where is 
my Little Majesty Two-shoes ? ” he asked, in rapid 
succession. 

“ Lack-a-day ! Lack-a-day ! ” was all the old nurse 
could utter, as she rocked her body to and fro. 

“ Not dead ? Surely not dead ? ” in a low voice 
from Monsieur. 

“ We do not know. She is gone — stolen — the 
Indians ! ” she managed at last to gasp. 

“ Ah ! ” and D&ire d’Albert drew in his breath 
with a relieved sigh. “ There, there, my good 
woman, in a moment you shall tell me all about it. 
This is my nephew Pierre, Vrouw Van der Hoef. 
May he sit down and dry himself, while I hear 
about this ? ” 

Babette proceeded to give him a very disjointed 
account of what they knew about the carrying off 
of Margot, interspersed with many expressions of 
contempt for all the people living in this town of 
the New World. Then Vrouw Van der Hoef, her 
duties as hostess over for the present, added her 
story to it, and it became plainer to Monsieur. He 
listened without many interruptions until they had 
finished, when he said : 

“ I think it is the wandering tribe of Kwasind 
that have done this deed. They are a sneaking lot. 


THE UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL 165 

and if they have harmed a hair of her head, by the 
God of Hosts — ” and he swore a great oath — “ I 
will not leave one of them standing.” 

“ Thank God, thou art come ! ” again said the 
old nurse ; “ I knew thou wouldst go after her and 
bring her back to me. The cowardly English and 
the lazy Dutch will do nothing.” 

“ Nay, blame not the people in this colony,” he 
said, “ they are all brave men. It is not their custom 
to go gallivanting about the country as I do. They 
have business of state and other serious matters to 
attend to.” 

“Yes, they had excuses enough,” she muttered. 

“No doubt good ones,” he quickly retorted. 
“ But I can and will go. So, Pierre, if you care 
to go North again I will take you. Get you dried 
and thoroughly rested. If the good huys-vrouw will 
give you some dinner, we can soon start. I shall 
go now and skirmish around, and see whom I can 
get to go with us. I think there are a few men, 
and some friendly Indians they can dispense with, 
and I know they will not hesitate to go with Desire 
d’Albert when there is an adventure on hand.” 

Pierre took off his hunting jacket, and hung it 
over a chair to dry. He began to talk encourag- 
ingly to Babette in his boyish way, promising almost 


i66 


MARGOT 


miracles for Uncle Desire’s accomplishing. She 
looked at the boy. At first she had been so occu- 
pied in pouring out her woes, and later in thanking 
and blessing Monsieur, that she had paid but slight 
attention to him. Now somewhat quieted, she was 
minded to ask him — as he had not been long from 
the mother country — about her own France; also if 
he had heard anything of her master and mistress. 
Pierre knew nothing of them, but told her all the 
news he could call to mind. He told her of the per- 
secution of the Huguenots, who had not been able 
to leave France. He spoke about himself and his 
old life, all in her own tongue, which fairly delighted 
the old dame. She listened eagerly, drinking in 
every word coming from his lips. In her intensity, 
she placed a hand caressingly on his shoulder. 
Pierre smelt something burning, and, being rather 
too near the fire, quickly stepped forward to get out 
of its range. Babette’s hand slipped from his shoul- 
der, and was caught in a beaded chain which he 
wore about his neck — such an one as the Indians 
make and wear. Fastened to the end of the chain 
was a little painted miniature, and this was pulled 
with a jerk from the pocket of his woollen shirt. 
Before Babette could get her hand disentangled, her 
eyes caught sight of the miniature. 


THE UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL 167 

"'‘Mon Dieu !"' she shrieked, grasping it. '‘"Mon 
Dieu ! ” 

“ What is it ? ” asked he ; “ did you hurt your- 
self ? Oh, the portrait. Do you know it ? ” 

“ Know it ! Where did you find it ? ” 

“ We did n’t find it,” he answered. “ Uncle D&ire 
took it from an Indian. He wore it strung around 
his neck, the portrait out so. He evidently did n’t 
know the value of it ; ’ t was the glitter of the stones 
that pleased him. He was quite satisfied to take 
some shining beads and a brass medallion for it. 
Wasn’t he. Uncle Desire and Pierre appealed to 
Monsieur. 

“Well, well, my good woman, what is it.?^” asked 
Monsieur d’Albert of Babette ; “ what is it ? ” He 
had stopped at the door a moment to chat with 
Vrouw Van der Hoef, and now he looked both 
curiously and anxiously at Babette, who stood as 
if stricken dumb, the miniature again in her 
hands. 

“ Mon Dieu ! She is dead ! ” at last she said, 
solemnly. 

“ Dead ! Whom do you mean? ” said Monsieur. 

“ Margot Dantier. It was hers.” 

“ Hers ? Little Majesty Two-shoes’ ? ” 

“ Yes. She always carried it. Her mother gave 


i68 


MARGOT 


it to her in France before she left home. She would 
have died before she would have parted with it. 
She has been killed for the jewels ! ” 

“Come, come, ’tis not so easy to die,” said Mon- 
sieur, severely. 

“ She is dead,” reiterated the old nurse. “ There 
is nothing for thee to do now but find her body 
where it lies, and bring it home. Home — she has 
no home! But bring it to her old Babette, so that 
she can bury her where her poor mother may at 
least look upon her grave.” The woman’s face be- 
came as a carved image. It was as if the positive 
thought that her nursling was dead — perhaps hor- 
ribly murdered — had dried up all her tears. Sud- 
denly she turned upon Monsieur d’ Albert in a fury. 

“ Why didst thou not make him tell thee where 
she was ? ” she cried. “ Couldst not see the resem- 
blance, and the name upon the back.f^ Thou, a 
great man, to let him escape thee like that ! Ah 
me 1 ah me I Why did we come to this heathenish 
land, where we have no friends — no friends ” 

Monsieur paid no heed to her ravings, but took 
the miniature and looked carefully at it. Yes, of 
course he saw the resemblance, now that his atten- 
tion was called to it. He turned it over in his hand. 
He shrugged his shoulders when he saw in tiny 


THE UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL 169 

letters on the back of the golden frame “ Louis de la 
Dantier 1581.” 

“ Pierre, learn a lesson,” he said, as he passed it 
back to him ; “ never neglect anything, however 
small. ’Tis the first time Desire d’Albert was ever 
guilty of carelessness. No, good Babette, I paid little 
attention to it. I am sorry. Had I seen the like- 
ness to the child, I should still have believed the 
Indian, since I had no idea of the child’s being any- 
where but safe and sound with you. I have always 
found Meshinauwa a well-meaning Indian. If he 
is above the ground, I shall find him, and there will 
not be much hidden from me when I shall have 
finished with him.. He will be pumped drier than 
ever well was in a dry springtime.” After a slight 
pause he added, in a gentle voice, as he looked 
kindly at the distressed nurse, “ I swear. Dame, by 
the shades of my ancestors, that I will bring her 
back, alive if possible. If that be beyond me, then 
wrapped in her tiny shroud ; or never shall you look 
upon my face again.” 

He hurried from the room, leaving its occupants 
in tears ; even Babette was again weeping. 

It was but a few hours before he was back. Pierre 
had hardly had time to finish the substantial meal 
Vrouw Van der Hoef had prepared for him. With 


MARGOT 


170 

Monsieur were a few men and some Indians, hardy 
fellows, tried and true. 

As they waited a moment at the open door, bid- 
ding the women good-bye, a group of wide-eyed 
children, who had left their sport, surrounded them. 
They watched with curiosity the men who were 
to bring Little Majesty Two-shoes back to them. 
Among the children was a tiny maid whose cheeks 
were like roses, and she stood with her finger in her 
mouth, eyeing the men intently. As she saw them 
about to depart, she ran to Monsieur d’ Albert, and 
clasped her arms about his legs (so small was she 
beside the tall man) and stopped him. 

“ Lift me up,” she said. When he did so, for he 
was always gentle to little ones, she continued : 
“ Give her this ” — she kissed him with a hearty 
smack — “ and tell her to hurry back, we miss her so, 
dear Majesty Two-shoes. Don’t let any one harm 
her, we love her so.” 

“ So we do, so we do,” shouted the heretofore 
silent children, made brave by one little lass. 

“ And so I shall tell her, when I meet her,” Mon- 
sieur said, addressing the crowd of children. Of the 
little one he held in his arms he made inquiry : 

“ What is your name, that I may say who sent 
the kiss ? ” 


THE UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL 171 

“ I am little Mary Keetle,” she lisped. 

“ Here is a kiss for your own bonny self, little 
Mary Keetle,” he said, as he kissed her. “ You are 
a brave lass.” And he put her down. 

Shrill voices then made the welkin ring with three 
cheers for Monsieur d’Albert. And down the 
street they marched, Monsieur and Pierre leading 
the way, followed to the outskirts of the town by 
old Babette and the larger boys and girls. Here 
they halted for a moment, while Monsieur ordered 
the children back to town, and told Babette to see 
that they loitered not on the way, else there might be 
more anxious women. Babette promised to do so, 
while calling down manifold blessings on his head. 
This Monsieur put an end to by grimly giving the 
order to march. One lad took off his shoe and 
threw it after them, as a token of good luck. 


Chapter XVIII 


I CARRY A TALISMAN 

ARCHING all day through forests 
covered with snow, making camp at 
night and often before making it clear- 
ing the place, even felling trees, was 
not such easy work, perhaps, as Mas- 
ter Pierre had imagined. But he was a sturdy lad, 
as lads were mostly in those days, and there was a 
great deal of it that was delightful to him. He 
liked the foraging for food, the meetings with the 
Indians (and the wish always stirred Pierfe that 
they would be hostile, so there might be a fight), the 
living close to Nature, and watching the quickening 
of her minutest creatures, the rest after a day’s hard 
marching, and the yarns the men spun about the 
camp fire at night, so thrilling and wonderful, of 
their adventures by land and sea. Wonderful indeed ! 
Perhaps some drew upon their imagination rather 
than upon facts. None were so thrilling or so 
strange as the travels of Uncle Desire. He had 



I CARRY A TALISMAN 173 

been East and West, North and South, even down 
the Mississippi, and knew many different tribes of 
Indians. But his tales were not only about Amer- 
ica, but other countries as well. He was a gre^t 
traveller and explorer. 

They had been a month or more on their trip. 
It was slow work going from one Indian settlement 
to another in wintry weather. They had found 
only a few old squaws when they had come to 
Kwasind’s country. He was not there. They 
learned that he had joined another tribe and gone 
upon the war path, and that he was not expected to 
return until the following summer. They had been 
no more successful in finding Meshinauwa; therefore 
Monsieur had given up all hope of seeing them for 
the present, and was making his way steadily north- 
ward, hoping against hope that the child might 
have been taken there. They were now not far 
from Canada. 

A thaw had set in the night before — it was the 
final breaking up of the winter — and the men, 
walking through the slush and mud, found life was 
not rose-colored. Still, there was no grumbling 
since Desire dAlbert set all he commanded a good 
example ; the harder things became, the more cheer- 
ful he was. An old saying of his was : “ Old 


MARGOT 


174 

man Growl never yet accomplished anything, and a 
cheerful way makes all things smooth.” 

“Well, my boy, how do you like this life?” he 
asked Pierre, who was slouching along, every little 
while stopping to knock off the mud which stuck 
to his boots, by giving a quick backward kick. “ Are 
you still hankering to be an explorer ? ” 

“ Why, yes, I do like it, Uncle Desire,” Pierre 
answered, in an eager voice. “ It is a trifle hard at 
times,” and he heaved a sigh as he noticed the 
mud again heaping about his boots that but now 
he had knocked off ; “ but I enjoy the outdoor life 
with all its sports and dangers.” 

“ But you hate its annoyances, hey ? ” interrupted 
Uncle Desire. 

“No doubt about that,” said the boy, with a half- 
ashamed laugh. “ Then it is so new ! ” 

“ That ’s it — it ’s new,” Uncle Desire said, with 
a smile; “it is new. Perhaps when it grows an 
old thing it will not be so agreeable to you. To 
me it never grows old — it has a perennial fascination ; 
nothing can take its pleasure away, cold, hunger, or 
danger. I ’m afraid it will be the same with you. 
’T is in the blood, this liking for a nomadic life ; 
and when it is, it is almost impossible to sit down 
and feel comfortable under any surroundings, how- 


I CARRY A TALISMAN 


175 

ever domestic and delightful.” A smile crossed 
his face as he continued in a teasing tone : “ Are n’t 
you afraid some unfriendly Indians may surprise us 
some day, and before you can say Jack Robinson 
adorn their belts with our scalps ? ” 

“ Not with you, Uncle Desire, not with you,” 
answered Pierre, with confidence ; “ I never think of 
such a thing happening. Anyway, we could whip 
them, I am sure. Besides, I carry a talisman.” 
This last was said in a low tone, so low that his 
uncle hardly caught it. 

“A talisman!” Uncle D&ire repeated. “Surely 
you are not superstitious ; leave that to old women 
and sailors.” 

“No, I am not superstitious — exactly — only I 
have a feeling if I carry this — ” and Pierre slapped 
his pocket energetically — “ that I shall never be 
harmed.” 

“Hah! hah!” laughed Uncle Desire. “Oh, 
for the days of youth ! What is your talisman, 
Pierre } ” 

“ I shall tell you and let you see it when we reach 
the camp, if you will not make fun of it.” 

“Very well. Now let us step cautiously along 
here. It is just as well, for there may be Iroquois 
lurking about, and their feeling is not particularly 


MARGOT 


176 

pleasant toward the French. Although I consider 
myself neutral, they may forget.” 

They followed one another silently but quickly 
for an hour or more ; not even the quivering of a 
branch or the winging of a bird escaped the eagle 
eyes of Monsieur Desire d’Albert. 

Night throwing its dark mantle over the world, 
and there being no sign of hostile persons about, 
they hewed some dead branches down from the 
trees, gathered some dry twigs and bracken, and 
soon had a roaring fire ‘made and a snug camp 
fixed for the night. 

A piece of bear’s meat was hissing and sputtering 
over the flame, that, together with the other provi- 
sions, an Indian had carried on his back. When 
all were refreshed, they made merry in a quiet way 
around the camp fire. Desire d’Albert, although a 
foe to solemnity, was before all a cautious man, 
hence his great success among the Indians. 

After the men had told a few tales and even 
hummed a jolly tune or so. Monsieur Desire d’Albert 
said : 

“ Now, Pierre, show your talisman. As it has 
such great powers, I may be tempted to get one like 
it. In this country of dangers ever near, it is well 
to have a talisman.” 


I CARRY A TALISMAN 177 

“Oh, come, Uncle Desire, if you are going to 
make fun of it I had best hide it in my pocket,” re- 
plied Pierre. 

“ There, Pierre, take no offence where none is 
meant. It is your time to tell a yarn ; out with it.” 

“ I will, only do not laugh at it,” he said, feeling 
all a boy’s dislike at being made fun of; and he took 
from his pocket a small package in rather a shame- 
faced sort of way, and unwrapped it. “ Voila toutr 
There in the hollow of his hand lay a golden curl, 
twisted about a louis-d’or. 

“ ’T is pretty enough and golden enough, heaven 
knows,” he said, as he took the curl from him, and 
twined it lightly around his finger. “ A curl from 
the head of a lady love — fie ! Pierre, you are com- 
mencing young, I see.” 

“Why no. Uncle D&ire, nothing of the sort. It 
belonged to a child I never even saw.” 

“ What, no romance after all } Pierre, your story, 
I ’m afraid, will be disappointing. Where does its 
virtue come in } ” 

“ I will tell you. I found it, and thereby hangs a 
tale. From the first I had a feeling that if I car- 
ried it nothing could harm me — that it would pro- 
tect me from all evil. Perhaps it is foolish — ” 

“Foolish! Well, I should say so,” interrupted 

12 


MARGOT 


178 

Desire d’Albert, stifling a yawn. “ Rather like the 
old woman’s stone with a hole in it. Well, tell 
your tale.” 

“Not so; rather like a relic from some saint, as 
coming from one so good and so unfortunate,” said 
Pierre, sharply. “But I will tell you. You know 
Captain Maurtaille, my godfather, who wrote you 
asking what he should do with me, as there was so 
much trouble over the Huguenots, and I being one 
by descent } ” 

“ Yes, indeed. He was getting a little afraid, and 
with reason, since he is in the King’s service and 
numbers so many friends among the Protestants. 
He should be neutral, as I am, in all things; ’t is 
the easiest way. Had I known before I left, I could 
have brought you over with me then. Well ? ” 

“ We were only waiting a favorable opportunity 
when it should be convenient for me to come to 
you. One day the captain was sent to inspect some 
boats at Havre, and he took me with him. On the 
way my horse became frightened, and threw me, 
cut his knee badly, and knocked me up consider- 
ably. It happened in front of an old hut, the door 
of which the captain kicked open, and we entered. 
It was vacant. He sat down, and while I got my 
breath, he bound up the cut in my head. Suddenly 


I CARRY A TALISMAN 179 

Captain Maurtaille jumped up and exclaimed : 
‘Well, if this isn’t my own hut! I had forgotten 
for a moment where we were. Over yonder lies 
Castle D’oen, which is part of an old estate that be- 
longed to my mother. The castle was burnt down 
and never rebuilt.’ ” 

“Yes,” interrupted Monsieur, “I remember it 
well. As boys, your godfather and I played 
together in that old house. Eh bien ! ” and a half 
smile played over his features at the reminiscence of 
some boyish prank, perhaps; “ your story improves.” 

“ Then,” said Pierre, “ he told me to go and look 
in an old locker which stood in the corner of the 
room, and see if there was anything in it. I went 
and found that.” He pointed to the long curl, 
which Uncle Desire was dancing up and down its 
golden length, letting the firelight play upon it, 
turning it to copper color. “ I brought it to him, 
and he seemed much affected by it. For a while 
I could get nothing from him. Then he told me 
that it belonged to a child — the child of some very 
dear friends of his, and that her parents were in 
prison. It seems that, as they were making their 
way to a ship ready to sail for America, they had 
been arrested and taken in custody. He had not 
been able as yet to reach them, although he had 


MARGOT 


1 8o 

done everything in his power to assist them. As 
for the child, it was probable that she was in Amer- 
ica, as he had helped her to escape. He had even 
put in the locker a suit of boy’s clothes, in case she 
should be followed and need them. He thought 
she must have worn them, since they were missing 
and the coin and curl left as payment. Of course 
she did not know that they had been left for her. 
He gave me the louis-d’or piece, but kept half of 
the curl. He said it should be a talisman to me. 
He would not tell me the name of the child, although 
I begged ever so hard. Only he said he loved her 
as his own, and that she was beautiful, and as good 
as beautiful. He fretted greatly for fear something 
had happened to her, and that he had done wrong 
in separating her from her parents.” 

“ Did the child come over alone ? Was there no 
one with her ? ” asked Monsieur. 

“ I believe he told about a nurse — I am not sure. 
He was very reticent.” 

Desire d’ Albert smiled a rather queer smile as 
he said : 

“ There, take back your curl, Pierre. It is very 
pretty ; and besides having such preventive powers, 
as you say, it might tempt me to keep it.” 

Pierre took his talisman, merely saying, “ I hope 


I CARRY A TALISMAN i8i 


I shall meet her, and perhaps I may some day, as 
she is in America.” 

“ O Pierre, you little know the extent of this 
America. But perhaps you may, who knows ? ” 
Another smile, hardly noticeable, crossed Uncle 
Desire’s face. “ Stranger things have happened 
even than that in this vast America. Now to sleep. 
We have a hard day’s work for to-morrow if we 
would reach Canada by nightfall. It is your 
watch the first quarter; be sure you do not drop 
asleep.” And he wrapped himself in his blanket, 
while the others who had not grown weary of 
Pierre’s narrative and gone to' sleep long ago pro- 
ceeded to follow his example. Soon they were all 
asleep except Pierre, and they lay in a circle around 
the fire, with their feet stretched toward it. 


Chapter XIX 

NEPTUNE 

OW still the night was ! Not a leaf 
rustled on the trees or a dead twig 
snapped and fell to the ground but 
it sounded harshly in the stillness. 
Perhaps a man sighed in his sleep 
and turned him over; or one sleeping on his back, 
dreaming of some peril, gave out a snort that would 
wake him up, and, after a muttered adjective, turn 
over and sleep again. But mostly they slept heav- 
ily, peacefully. 

Pierre sat with his knees touching his chin, hold- 
ing his talisman and looking at it. After a time he 
wrapped it up and put it back into his pocket 
again. He got up and yawned an ear-to-ear yawn, 
then stretched himself by thrusting out first one 
arm and then the other to their fullest length and 
drawing them back again. He threw on more 
fagots from the pile near at hand, as he gently 
paced up and down to limber his legs, cramped 
from sitting still so long. Presently he sat down 



NEPTUNE 


183 

again (the watch seemed long), and looked into the 
fire, as if trying to read something in its red embers. 
What would he do if by chance he should see off 
yonder a pack of wolves ? He glanced furtively 
out into an open space between gaunt trees, and 
here and there an oak that still wore its brown 
dress. He thought of the loup-garou stories that 
his old nurse had oft hushed his whimpering with 
when a child ; and he threw on another piece of 
wood, which made the flame leap up and throw out 
red and yellow sparks. His eyes sought the light- 
ening space — ^and he looked into two bright eyes. 
Fascinated, he watched those eyes. They came 
nearer and nearer — they gleamed yellow as topaz 
in the dark. To what belonged the eyes 1 Was it 
an Indian, creeping stealthily on them.? Was it a 
wolf or a bear .? 

“ A bear undoubtedly,” Pierre said to himself. “ I 
will kill it, and to me will belong the credit.” He 
poised his gun and took sure aim. Something — 
he knew not what it was — made him hesitate; he 
could not bring himself to shoot. 

“What is it.?” he muttered, as he lowered his 
gun. 

“A dog, I think,” said one near him — Uncle 
Desire, who had awakened, and for the last few 


MARGOT 


1 84 

minutes had been watching the approach of the 
thing with curiosity beside Pierre, unconscious of 
his nearness. 

Hearing them speak, the dog (for dog it was) 
stood still, and for one second looked as if he would 
turn tail and slink away. But D&ire d’ Albert had 
a clear, penetrating voice that carried far, and he 
called him. The dog came, but with reluctance. 
He was timid, and did not seem to have much faith 
in humanity. He did not look unlike a bear in- 
deed, for he was a large St. Bernard. His coat 
was matted and torn. He was a disreputable-look- 
ing object. About his neck hung the remnant of 
a rope, with which he had evidently been tied. 

The rest of the party, now aroused, crowded about 
him. Monsieur looked critically at him, while the 
men talked dog lore over him, and spoke of his 
points, and wondered whence he had come. 

“ Good dog ! Poor fellow, he is hungry and worn 
out,” said Monsieur ; “ see his paws, they are cut to 
pieces. Here, Pierre, get me that bear grease, 
and let 's fix him up a bit.” 

While he worked over the dog’s cuts, he spoke 
in a caressing way to him, and the dog responded 
in the usual canine manner by licking the hands 
tending to his hurts, and wagging his tail. 


NEPTUNE 


185 

“Neptune, is your name Neptune?” he asked. 
The dog manifested such delight that no one that 
saw him but knew he wanted to express joy at his 
quick recognition. “ I thought so. There are not 
many dogs like you in America, I’ll venture to 
say.” Then Monsieur turned to them and said, 
“We have accomplished one thing (Providence 
or good luck has helped us), for this is Margot 
Dander’s dog, that has come so mysteriously 
to us.” 

“ Is it, indeed ? ” they asked, and looked at the 
dog with even greater curiosity. 

“ Yes, and the poor beast looks as if he had been 
having a hard time of it. I wonder where he has 
come from — I do not believe he would have left 
the child ” ; and there entered for the first time a 
great fear in Monsieur’s heart that Babette might 
be right, and that the child was dead. 

“ Pierre, let me take the miniature and see if he 
recognizes it.” 

Pierre held it out to the dog. He first smelt of 
it, and then, throwing up his head, lifted his eyes to 
Monsieur and howled dismally. 

“ Poor fellow, where is she ? ” Only another 
howl from Neptune, for Neptune it really was. 

“ Well, Pierre, take care of it,” said Uncle Desire, 


i86 


MARGOT 


as he gave the miniature back to Pierre. “ I ’m glad 
we brought it with us.” 

“ Oh, the poor beast,” said Pierre, watching him 
eating. “ If he could only speak, what news he could 
tell. He is really trying to tell us something.” 
Indeed, the dog went from one to the other of the 
men, except the Indians — them he shunned — and 
whined, as if appealing to them. 

“ Neptune, you shall stay with us. Let us hope 
your troubles are over for the time at least,” said 
Pierre. 

While they ate their breakfast, which one of the 
men had hastily prepared, for the night was past, 
and the sun gilding the tops of the trees, D&ire 
d’Albert told them how Neptune had been found 
drifting at sea. He finished by saying : 

“ Could he relate his experiences, it would fill a 
volume, no doubt, and be good reading, too.” 

Soon they broke camp and went on, anxious to 
reach Canada, so as to learn whether the child was 
there, or if they had come so many miles for naught. 


Chapter XX 

MESHINAUWA 

FTER he had comfortably housed 
his companions at a friend’s, Desire 
d’Albert dressed himself in his best, 
with all his gayest trappings, — black 
satin breeches, embroidered waistcoat, 
velvet coat, cravat, and ruffles of fine mechlin lace, 
periwig, patches and all. He was now Monsieur 
d’Albert, Chevalier de Farneisay of the court of 
Louis XIV., where men followed the fashions of 
the day. He and Pierre, who was dressed equally 
carefully, then went ostensibly to pay their respects 
to the governor, but really to find out all they could 
about Margot Dantier. 

At once they were admitted to the governor’s 
presence, for all doors were thrown open to Monsieur 
d’Albert, Chevalier de Farneisay. He received a 
courteous welcome back to Canada, and many ques- 
tions were asked him about his explorations, all of 
which he answered as well as his impatience would 
permit. He was rather reticent about his last visit 



i88 


MARGOT 


to Paris, not knowing what message King Louis 
might have sent regarding himself. The governor 
made no allusion to it, however, so Monsieur sup- 
posed the choler of the King had fumed itself away. 

As soon as he could without abruptness he said : 

“ My dear Governor, I want your help. I am 
trying to find the whereabouts of a child stolen from 
New York by some Canadian Indians, and I think 
brought here for a ransom. The child’s name is 
Margot Dantier.” 

The governor was most solicitous in his desire 
to help him. He sent for his list of names of all 
the prisoners bought and sold within the year. Her 
name was not on it. 

“ Margot Dantier, did you say ? ” he asked ; and 
when Monsieur had answered “ Yes,” he began to 
tell of a lady of that name who had just come over 
from France. 

“ Mon Dieu ! ” Monsieur exclaimed. “ Is she 
really here ? Well, it is the unexpected that happens, 
after all.” 

“ Certainly, there is a lady here bearing that name. 
She has been here now about a month and is 
only waiting for her husband, who is expected by the 
next ship, when they are both to be sent to the 
colonies of Maryland, if his Majesty do not change 


MESHINAUWA 189 

his mind by that time, which would be no rare thing. 
They are Huguenots, but through the King’s clem- 
ency are allowed to go free, and were even given 
passports.” 

He did not explain that Sieur Dantierhad bought 
his freedom, after great trouble and the imprison- 
ment of both Madame Dantier and himself, by the 
giving up of all his immense wealth (it was supposed) 
to the King. But there was a goodly portion left of 
which the Crown knew nothing, and which Babette 
had taken on board the “ Willing Bark,” and it was 
now safe in the spare room at Vrouw Van der Hoef’s^ 
waiting the arrival of Sieur Dantier. 

“ Shall I send for Madame Dantier ? ” asked the 
governor. 

“ Yes, if you will be so kind,” answered Monsieur. 
“ It is no doubt her child that I am searching for, 
but not a word to her about the child’s being lost. 
I expect to find her, if alive, before many days ; if 
not, I shall know what has become of her, if I have 
to go to the North Pole to find out.” 

“ I hope it will not come to that. We should like 
to keep you with us for a time. But I will bring 
Madame.” So saying, he left the room, and soon 
returned with his wife and another lady, Madame 
Dantier. 


MARGOT 


190 

Monsieur and Pierre were both cordially greeted 
by the governor’s wife and presented to Madame 
Dander. Pierre chatted gayly with the governor’s 
lady, who was teasing him about not staying in 
Canada, the gayest place in the New World; indeed, 
a second Versailles, she said, instead of gallivanting 
about the country with his uncle. And he was try- 
ing in vain to make her see the beauties of the life 
he was leading, travelling about with Uncle Desire. 

Desire d’Albert looked at Madame Dander, and 
saw only too plainly the sadness in her gentle face, 
and he felt half angry, wholly dismayed, at his inabil- 
ity heretofore to find her child. They spoke of 
this new country, and she asked many questions 
concerning it. The thought of her child was ever 
at her heart, yet she dreaded to frame the words on 
her lips, lest she hear sad things concerning her. 

“ Monsieur, thou art a great traveller, so I suppose 
thou hast been to Maryland ? ” at last she asked. 

“Yes, Madame, I have been there many times,” 
he replied. 

“ Dost thou know the Danders who live there, 
and if my daughter Margot reached them in safety ? ” 

“She did not go as far as that, Madame. I met 
your child the day she stepped from the good ship 
that bore- her to America.” 


MESHINAUWA 


191 

“ Didst thou, indeed, and stood she the trip well ? ” 
she asked, a great longing within her to hear of her 
child. When he answered her and told her he had 
seen her well, she continued: “ Ah, I have fretted my 
heart out with the thought that we had not done 
right to let her come such a distance with only old 
Babette. Night after night I dream of them both ; 
always I see Margot alive, but sad — sad. I know 
she is in the land of the living, I am sure of it — I 
feel it in my heart ; but time and again the thought 
comes — in this strange New World there may be a 
worse fate than death.” 

“ Madame, I hope you may find her safe and 
well,” and a frown crossed Monsieur’s brow. 

“ It will not be long before I see her now ; I count 
the days until Sieur Dantier arrives, and we can go 
to her.” 

Monsieur stood negligently leaning against a 
large window which overlooked the court, when 
on a sudden he turned and, sweeping the ladies a 
low bow, as he murmured an adieu, abruptly left 
them. They listened to his rapid footsteps as he 
ran down the stairs, even in his haste jumping 
over some, and he was out into the street before the 
occupants of the room had recovered from their 
surprise. 


MARGOT 


1 92 

As for Pierre, knowing his uncle full well, he 
laughed, and the others joined him in his merriment. 
Their curiosity aroused, they crowded to the win- 
dow and looked out. They saw Monsieur accost an 
Indian in no very gentle manner, and walk off with 
him. 

Yes, it was an Indian ; in fact, Meshinauwa. Mon- 
sieur had seen him from the window, and nothing 
would make him run any risk of losing the subtle 
creature ; for Indians are like rabbits, burrowing in 
deep places, and hard to catch unless you set a trap 
for them. 

“ So, so, my friend, not so fast,” he said to Meshi- 
nauwa, in a quiet tone, the more quiet because he 
was so excited. “You were going to escape me 
again, were you .? ” 

“ No, no ; I no go. What you want ? ” he said, 
sullenly. 

“ It will not take me long to tell you what I want. 
Where is the child from whom you stole the minia- 
ture I took from you.^^ What did you do with 
her?" 

“ I do her no harm.” 

“ voila assez. But where is the child? Where 
did you take her ? Come, out with it ; if you have 
done her no harm, no harm comes to you. Let us 


MESHIN AU WA 


193 

sit down here, where we can talk more at our ease.” 
As he spoke, Desire d’Albert drew him down on the 
stoop in the shadow of a house. 

“ I tell you.” And so he did, beginning at the 
time when Margot and her dog came into the camp 
where he was, down to the day they had left her 
unconscious, perhaps dead, at the hut of Simon 
Farge. He finished his tale, to which Monsieur, 
with a black frown on his face, listened, with these 
words : 

“ I good to her — she die if it were not for me, 
long ago. I carry her days and days on my back. 
If she die, I no help it.” 

“ You cur! Why did you not tell me about her 
the day when I took the miniature from you ? It 
could not have been many days since you left her.” 

“ Kwasind, he say no tell.” 

“ What is Kwasind, that you should mind him } ” 

“ Kwasind Great Chief.” 

“ Not so great as the White Father’s friend is, and 
so you shall find to your cost if the child is dead or 
harmed. Come, I will give you a chance to prove 
your words true. We will go to this Simon’s 
Farge’s hut.” 

And together they walked off down the beaten 
path which led to Simon’s home. 

13 


Chapter XXI 

FAIRY TALES 

BOUT this time Margot was sitting 
on her stool by Simon's knee in her 
favorite attitude, — chin leaning on 
her hands, — watching him work and 
chatting with him. 

The house was tidied up and in perfect order. 
On a table by the window, which was open, for the 
air was bland and pleasant, there stood a pot with 
a wild anemone growing in it. Simon, on coming 
through the woods, from gathering shoes to be 
patched, had seen its leaves sticking out from the 
snow (for winter yet held all the land in her icy 
bands), and he had dug it up and brought it home 
to his dear miss. She had watched and cared for 
it, until now it was sending out its blossoms in great 
profusion. 

This playing at housekeeping was fun to Little 
Majesty Two-shoes. She insisted upon doing her 
part of the work, and loved dearly to brush up 
the hearth and wipe the dishes. Simon and she 



FAIRY TALES 


195 

always disputed as to who should make the beds, 
for he did not want the idolized child — his dear 
miss — to do anything but play and read the few 
books which Father Andree, a good, kind priest, 
brought her. He was almost the only person who 
had seen the child since she had been with Simon. 
He had not been able to question Meshinauwa as 
he had wished, for he had not come near him ; no 
doubt the fear of learning of her death stayed him. 
As for Winka, being somewhat of a rascal, he had 
taken himself off, nobody seemed to know or care 
where. Therefore Simon had learned nothing of the 
little miss whom he had bought, nothing of her past 
life, except that she must be French, since she both 
spoke and read it easily. 

Father Andree advised Simon to keep her quiet 
and secluded for a time, and see if good food, rest, 
and contentment would not bring back her memory. 
I think he saw the hunger in Simon’s heart for the 
companionship of a little child, or perhaps, seeing no 
scapular hanging about Margot’s neck such as all 
good Catholic mothers put upon their children to 
protect them from evil, he hoped in time to make 
her a convert to his church. Or perhaps, think- 
ing it was only one of the many cases of stolen chil- 
dren, he considered that she was quite as well off in 


MARGOT 


196 

Simon’s care as anywhere else. All of which was 
exactly in accordance with Simon’s way of thinking. 

She looked healthful, sweet, and clean, and she 
was dressed in a simple white frock, which had be- 
longed to Simon’s child. She was saying : 

“ Simon, hast ever heard any fairy tales ? ” 

“Yes, Little Majesty Two-shoes; I used to hear 
them at my mother’s knee, when I was a slip of a 
boy.” 

“ What were they about, good Simon ? ” 

“ Always about the loup-garou, the terrible were- 
wolf. She was so bold at times that she would 
enter the cottages of the villagers and take the 
sleeping babe from its cradle, beneath the very 
noses of the family, and carry it off to the woods.” 

“ Did it not frighten thee to hear such tales when 
thou wast so little ? ” 

“Frighten me! I was oft blue with fright, and 
my skin puckered like a goose’s. When, after the 
telling of those tales, I was told to climb the little 
ladder which led to the loft where I slept with my 
brothers, my knees knocked so together I have since 
wondered how I managed to climb at all.” 

“ Didst ever hear any about good fairies, Simon ? ” 

“Not many; these tales were told not to enter- 
tain us, — my parents were poor, and had not time for 





“HAST EVER HEARD ANY FAIRY TALES?’’ 





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FAIRY TALES 


197 

that — but to frighten us into being good and more 
diligent. When we had idled, or had not gathered 
the desired amount of hazel nuts from the woods, nor 
brought in a huge pile of fagots for the winter time, 
then the tales that night were more fearsome, and 
sent us to bed quaking.” 

“ Poor Simon, thou must have worked hard when 
thou wast little.” 

Hard enough ; but, little miss, work never hurt 
any one, I think.” 

“ Dost thou believe in fairies, Simon ? ” 

“Well, perhaps I do and perhaps I do not. 
Sometimes I. do believe they are about, and tie knots 
in my thread for very mischief, especially when I 
am in a hurry.” 

“ Yes, the gnomes. Didst ever hear them laugh ? 
Such a funny, tinkling laugh, like spilling water. If 
thou art patient, after working a long time, all at once 
the knot comes untied. If thou art impatient and 
losest thy temper, the thread will tie itself up into 
a little ball. ’T is the gnomes’ little fingers that do 
it, I am sure, and then thou hast to break it. The 
gnomes say ‘ Ho! hoi’ in a gruff way then. Yes, 
Simon, I have heard them and watched thee.” She 
shook her finger at him, laughing merrily. 

“ Hah, hah,” laughed Simon, joining her. “ I see 


MARGOT 


198 

that I shall have to put a guard on my temper, now 
I have a Majesty Two-shoes to live with me. You 
must pardon old Simon, dear miss ; he has been 
alone so long he grows old and careless.” 

“ Thou dearest Simon !” she exclaimed, throwing 
her arms about his neck. “ As if I did not know 
that thou art the kindest man in the world, and the 
very best. Even Father Andree is no better than 
thou art.” 

“ Yes, he is much better. He spends all his time 
doing good, and praying for the wicked, and saying 
his beads. Simon does nothing.” 

“ Simon does for me.” 

“Yes, but that is Simon’s pleasure.” 

“ Dost believe, Simon, that some good fairy will 
brush the cobwebs from my brain, so that some day 
— I wish it might be now — I could remember my 
name, and all the other things I have forgotten } 
Mother would say, ‘ Trust thou in God.’ ” 

Simon, surprised at hearing her mention her 
mother, looked over the rim of his spectacles at 
her; but not wishing to startle her, he quietly 
said : 

“Yes, God watches over us always, and your 
mother would know what was best.” 

“ My mother ! Where is she ? Have I a mother ?” 


FAIRY TALES 


199 


“ I do not know. But why worry ? It will all 
come right some day, no doubt ; and until then, 
Simon shall be both father and mother to you.” 
He had hoped, yet dreaded, that the word “ mother ” 
would give her memory a jog, and set in motion a 
train of thoughts which might lead to something. 
He hoped for her sake, but dreaded for himself, 
as he well knew it would mean the giving up of his 
treasure. He saw how the big eyes clouded, that 
were a few moments ago brimming with mirth, and 
he said : 

“ Suppose I tell you one of my fairy tales.” 

“ Oh, wilt thou indeed.^ ” 

“ Yes, certainly. Once upon a time — ” Simon 
was destined never to finish that fairy tale, for at 
that moment there sounded a loud knocking at the 
door. It was pushed open with scant ceremony, 
and Monsieur d’Albert and an Indian walked in. 
They had been looking in at the window, listening 
to the talk between Simon and the child, and they 
could wait no longer. 

“ Simon Farge, my friend, how do you do ? ” said 
Monsieur, shaking him by the hand, but never 
taking his glance off from the child, who had risen 
when they came into the room, and stood looking at 
them with a sweet, serious gaze. In her eyes there 


200 


MARGOT 


was no light of recognition for either Monsieur or 
Meshinauwa. 

“ Who is the pretty maid, Simon ? ” asked Mon- 
sieur at length, for it was a great shock to him, the 
child’s lack of memory. 

“ Little Majesty Two-shoes,” she answered. 

“ Little Majesty Two-shoes is a very good name 
since I gave it to you myself, but I think Margot a 
better one ; do not you ? Margot Dantier is your 
rightful name.” 

“ Margot Dantier ! Is Margot Dantier my name, 
really my name ? I cannot remember anything — 
I have remembered nothing since I came to Simon.” 

“ No,” said Simon, softly; “ we have forgotten all 
about our past life.” 

Monsieur made one more effort, and said impres- 
sively : 

“ Here is Meshinauwa ; try and see if you cannot 
recall him. He carried you days and days on his 
back, so he says.” 

“ No. Was he the Indian who brought me to 
you, Simon ? ” 

“ Yes, dear.” 

Her face clouded over, and tears came into her 
eyes, as she shook her head at her inability to bring 
any part of her past to mind. 


FAIRY TALES 


201 


“ I cannot remember — I cannot!” she muttered. 

Simon took Monsieur aside and told him all he 
knew ; how she must have suffered some terrible 
shock, and that she had been that way ever since 
she had been with him. He told him (he was jeal- 
ous of his guardianship), and he could see it for 
himself, that she was perfectly well bodily, and that 
he hoped in time her memory would come back to 
her. 

“ Time is a laggard — we cannot wait for time,” 
Monsieur said, impatiently. “ Her mother is here, 
and I want to restore her child to her in as perfect 
a condition as when she left France.” 

Now it was Monsieur’s turn to explain to Simon 
something of Margot’s past life and who she was. 
When he heard that her father was of late Court 
shoemaker to the King, he understood many things. 
Monsieur also told him what he intended doing. He 
called Meshinauwa, to whom Margot was talking, 
and in a low voice gave him an order that sent 
him on a running trot from the hut. 

Then, sitting down, — and he made a brave figure 
in all his splendor, — he talked quietly to Margot, 
while Simon took up his work again. He made 
himself so entertaining that Margot hitched her 
stool near and nearer him as she listened, enchanted. 


202 


MARGOT 


While speaking, relating little anecdotes that had 
come under his observation, Monsieur had an ear 
open for a sound outside of the house. When he 
heard it (after some whispered words to Simon) 
he left them, telling Margot that he should come 
again. 


Chapter XXII 

‘‘I REMEMBER” 

HAT a wise man he is, Simon,” said 
Margot. “ I do believe he knows 
every animal in the world.” 

“Yes, ‘ every animal in the world,’ ” 
repeated Simon. He was so agitated 
that he hardly knew what he was either saying or 
doing. In order not to excite Margot, he kept on 
stitching the patch on the shoe, but, few as were the 
stitches he put in, they had all to come out next 
day, so zigzag were they. 

Outside of the house, by the door, there stood a 
group quite as excited: D&ire d’Albert, Pierre, 
Meshinauwa, and Neptune. They were making 
ready to try an experiment. About Neptune’s neck 
they fastened the miniature of Louis de la Dantier 
by its beaded chain, so that it should hang in a con- 
spicuous place on his chest. When all was ready 
they opened the door, and, at a word of command, 
the dog walked in. He came in slowly, wonderingly, 
his nose in the air, sniffing at the strangeness of it 



204 


MARGOT 


all. He heard Margot’s voice — he stopped — then 
gave one wild leap at her and almost knocked her 
over. There was no mistaking the recognition in 
him. 

Margot, recovering her equilibrium, said, with a 
laugh : 

“ Why, Simon, see this big dog ! Is he not splen- 
did ? Nice old fellow.” She dropped on her knees 
at his side, no fear in her heart, and continued : 
“ Why, he acts as if he knew me, does he not ? ” 
There was wonderment in her voice, for Neptune 
acted as if crazy with delight, and expressed it as 
an overgrown puppy might. 

It was different with the men at the door; their 
faces expressed no delight, only a deep chagrin. 
They fancied that their experiment had failed — but 
only for a moment. Margot’s eyes had caught sight 
of the miniature. She took it in her hands and 
looked at it, and then up into the dog’s face. Like a 
flash of light — it was as if in answer to her prayers 
— the cobwebs were swept from her brain, and she 
remembered. The expression that came into her 
face was something beautiful to behold. It was like 
the meeting of lights in the milky way, the bursting 
of the sun cloud. 

“Oh! oh! It is my own Neptune, and my own 


I REMEMBER’^ 


u 


205 


miniature of the brave Louis de la Dantier ! ” she 
cried. 

“ Thank God and the Virgin Mary,” said Simon, 
all of a tremble, and the tears ran down his wrinkled 
cheeks. “ Thank God,” echoed a voice at the door. 

“ Thou dear, dear doggie, where hast thou been ? 
Were they good to thee, my Neptune ? ” Then she 
stood up tall and straight. With eyes alight with 
excitement, she said : “ Now I remember everything, 
good Simon, everything. How that bad Indian 
brought me to Kwasind’s camp — how frightened I 
was, but I dared not show it — and there they kept 
me. Night after night, as I slept out in the open 
and watched the stars come out one by one, I peopled 
the woods about with fierce creatures, ready to rush 
upon me and devour me ; night after night, I cowered 
under my blanket, no one to comfort me — even 
God seemed a long way off — nothing but my minia- 
ture and Neptune. Then I lost my miniature, and 
after that, that wicked chief took my dog from me r 
and it did hurt me so, and I was so tired, I seemed 
to fall into an awful blackness, and then I knew no 
more. But that dream, dost remember, that I had 
when I first came to thee ? Why, Simon, it is n’t a 
dream at all — it is true. ’T is part of my old home 
life in dear Paris. My father is a shoemaker too, 


2o6 


MARGOT 


cordonnier to the King. ‘ Felix Dander, Cordomiier' 
is printed on the sign that swings in front of our 
house at home. Those good men are his workmen, 
and it is dear old Jacques who looks like thee, and 
I am the little girl, for I had long curls when I was 
at home, but Babette cut them off before I crossed 
the- sea in Captain Hezekiah Brown’s ship, the 
‘Willing Bark.’ How long ago it seems! ” 

The people outside by the half-open door could 
not wait for her to relate any more reminiscences; 
they eagerly came in. 

As soon as Margot saw Monsieur she ran to him, 
and said : 

“ Ce bon homme, thou art my dear friend Monsieur 
d’Albert, whom first I saw in the little hut near 
Havre, before we came to this country. I am so glad 
to see thee again. Simon and I have been alone so 
long.” But she added quickly, not wishing to slight 
her good Simon even for a moment: “ It has been 
a happy time, though, has it not, Simon 1 ” 

“ Happy indeed for me,” he answered. 

“ And here is Meshinauwa too. Ah, Monsieur, 
had it not been for him, I doubt me whether I 
should ever have lived to see this day. I was 
almost dead when Simon bought me for a bale 
of tobacco.” 


“I REMEMBER” 207 

“ Simon got you cheap enough, I think,” said 
Monsieur, with a laugh. 

“ But they thought me dead — anyway, Meshi- 
nauwa is a good, kind Indian; he was kind to me.” 

The Indian gave a fleeting glance at Monsieur, 
and uttered a grunt. He caught not the words that 
Monsieur muttered under his mustache, something 
about its being well for him that it was so. 

Margot looked at Pierre, who was regarding her 
with a smile, and said : 

“ I do not know thee, do I ? ” 

Pierre shook his head, and Monsieur made the 
rafters ring with his hearty laugh, as he interrupted : 
“ No more you do ; but I will introduce you. This 
is Pierre Dupont, my very good nephew, a rogue 
of a fellow, who carries a talisman — a golden curl. 
Why, it would about match yours in color, my Little 
Majesty Two-shoes.” 

“ Uncle Desire loves his joke,” said Pierre, as she 
looked inquiringly at him ; and he blushed even as a 
girl might over his face and up into the roots of his 
black hair. “ But I do not mind, and some day I 
will show it to you.” 

“ Monsieur, hast seen my poor Babette ? Did she 
worry and miss me ? ” 

“She did indeed. But Margot, tell us how you 


2o8 


MARGOT 


came to go to the Indian’s camp, for surely with that 
dog to protect you, one Indian could not have taken 
you by force ? ” 

“No! no! I went willingly. I did wrong, and 
God punished me for it. But I did so want to hear 
something of my mother, and he told me that 
Kwasind could tell me where she was and that he 
would bring me back, and I believed him. I made 
poor Neptune be good and come too, though he 
did n’t want to go. Old fellow, didst thou } ” And 
Margot gave the dog another loving pat. 

“ I see. How about your miniature — did you 
lose that.^^” he said, determined to learn every- 
thing. 

“ Meshinauwa said I did, but I don’t see how I 
could have lost it. Did you find it ? ” 

“ No. Meshinauwa found it, so he says,” — and 
he looked at the Indian keenly. 

“ But I asked Meshinauwa,” she said, and then 
stopped. She realized that the glitter of the jewels 
had been too much for the Indian (lovers of bright, 
sparkling things as all Indians are), and she would 
not tell on him. She reasoned that much should be 
forgiven one who had been as kind as he had been 
to her. In the slight interval of silence which 
followed, Meshinauwa stood like a bronze figure, 


I REMEMBER” 


cc 


209 


looking ahead apparently at nothing, bearing the 
scrutiny of the many eyes without turning a hair. 
How differently those eyes looked at him ! And each 
saw a different person. Monsieur’s eyes were hard 
and threatening, although a little ironical smile 
played about their corners, and he saw only one 
of the many obstacles which must be pushed back, 
cowed, crushed if need be, to make way for the 
flood of people rushing to the New World. Pierre’s 
eyes were bright with excitement, and they saw in 
him only an Indian who might have stood just so 
while waiting for the torture of the stake. Simon’s 
eyes were alight with love, genuine brother love, 
the love for all creatures born of woman, and they 
saw only a poor Indian, one of the many to be 
pushed from their homes, cajoled and cheated by 
the civilized invaders. Margot’s eyes were wet with 
pity, and they saw her friend, her good friend who 
had carried her days and days upon his broad back. 
She broke the silence, which was becoming strained, 
by saying : 

“ It does not matter about the miniature, now that 
I have it again, does it ? I am sure if Meshinauwa 
said that he found it, it must be so.” She gave him 
a sweet smile. 

“ Well,” said Monsieur, “ we ’ll let that pass.” If 
14 


210 


MARGOT 


an Indian’s face ever changed, Meshinauwa’s cer- 
tainly expressed relief. 

“ Margot, do you remember what I said I would 
do for the sake of those bright eyes of yours, when 
I saw you at Vrouw Van der Hoef’s.f^ ” 

“My mother,” she said solemnly, “my mother! 
Hast found her ? ” 

“ Come, let us go to the governor’s house and see 
if there is not some one there whom you know.” 

“ Mon petit bon Dieu, I do believe it is my 
mother ! I do believe it is 1 ” But Monsieur would 
tell her nothing more. 

Soon an excited child was tripping along between 
Monsieur d’Albert and his nephew Pierre ; her feet 
seemed to skim the ground. She talked blithely 
first to one and then the other. Neptune trotted 
on ahead, running back every now and then to see 
if his mistress followed. 


Chapter XXIII 

BEAUTY SHOULD GO BEAUTIFULLY 

HEN Madame Dantier saw a tall 
child coming down the street with 
Monsieur d’Albert, Pierre, and a 
large dog, she looked with common 
curiosity at them, but without a great 
amount of interest. Perhaps what struck her as 
odd was that the child had on the simple scant 
frock, cap, girdle, and jacket such as the Normandy 
peasantry wear, and she smiled at seeing, as it were, 
a bit of the old country set down in this wilderness. 
Now Pierre but a few hours before, receiving a mes- 
sage, had left their presence with the profoundest 
air of mystery sitting strangely on his boyish face ; 
still she did not think it had any bearing upon her- 
self. As they came nearer, while yet scanning care- 
lessly the gay group (for gay they were, merrily 
laughing at some antic of the dog), she let out a 
stifling cry, and she too rushed from the room and 
ran down the broad stairs, the second one that day. 



212 


MARGOT 


She was out into the street like a flash, and her 
child was in her arms. 

The governor’s wife in mild wonder looked from 
the window, and then she knew that the mother had 
found her child. Her eyes took in the child — her 
clothes, her beauty ; clothes were always an impor- 
tant item in Madame’s life. Her lips curled into 
“ How bourgeoise ! but the next moment they mur- 
mured, “ How lovely ! ” Madame the governor’s 
lady was a gay, fashionable woman, who often 
found life in Canada irksome, although it was really 
a mimic representation of the life at Court, and 
there were enough tragedies happening to please the 
most excitement-loving person. She now gave a 
little laugh of anticipation, as she thought that to her 
would fall the pleasure of dressing Margot in the 
garments which befitted her station. She hailed 
with delight the coming of the child, inasmuch as 
it would give her a moment’s excitement in raking 
and scraping together a toilet suitable to her beauty. 
After welcoming Margot, she too flitted from the 
room, an errand in view. Her errand was among 
her ladies who had children, and soon she found all 
she needed. Then, while the mother and her child 
sat talking of their common joys and adventures, 
she returned and begged the loan of Margot for a 


SHOULD GO BEAUTIFULLY 213 

few moments. Madame Dantier hated to let her 
child go from her side even for an instant. One 
moment she clasped her to her breast, and the next 
held her off, saying : “ How thou hast grown ! 
Truly, Little Majesty Two-shoes is a misnomer, 
thou art so tall ; we must leave off the Little.” But 
she yielded to Madame’s entreaties, and Margot left 
the room with the governor’s lady. While she was 
gone. Monsieur told Madame Dantier of Margot and 
her adventure, which had all happened to her through 
her intense desire to learn of her mother. He spoke 
of her beauty and lovely ways, which had won her 
such faithful friends ; of Simon and Meshinauwa; 
but of himself he said little. That little was enough 
to enable Madame to understand to whom she owed 
her child’s return. She poured forth her thanks in 
tears and gracious words, and Meshinauwa and 
Simon came in for their share of praise. 

When the two, who had left the room but a short 
time, returned, there was a great change in Margot 
as far as outward appearance went. She was 
dressed in an exquisite gown of soft, clinging mate- 
rial, embroidered in gold. Madame had either had 
it tucked away or had borrowed it from some one 
of the ladies of the fort, I know not which, only 
that it was beautiful. Margot’s hair was piled on 


MARGOT 


214 

the top of her head, yet fell in ringlets about her 
neck, in imitation of the older folk, and she looked 
like a diminutive grand dame. On her feet were 
two tiny red slippers. 

They laughed a laughter with tears in it when 
Madame said : 

“ There, she will do now until she can get her 
own clothes, and beauty should go beautifully. 
Little Majesty Two-shoes should always wear pretty 
shoes. Those were made in the workshop of the 
great shoemaker, Sieur Dantier.” 

“ Madame,” said Monsieur, making the govern- 
or’s lady a low bow, “ to you belongs the palm. 
You have given the jewel a beautiful setting.” 

“ I quite agree with Madame,” said Pierre, making 
a bow the exact counterpart of Uncle Desire’s, “ that 
‘ beauty should go beautifully.’ ” 

Margot looked from one to the other, and then 
said gravely: 

“ It is indeed a beautiful frock.” 

A smile passed over their faces at her words, and 
her mother thought she looked equally lovely in 
either frock, but she thanked the governor’s wife 
for her trouble in a few gracious words. 

The talk now naturally turned to Simon. They 
all wondered at the strangeness of fate that should 


SHOULD GO BEAUTIFULLY 215 

have brought the mother and child to the same 
place and yet should have kept them from meeting. 

Madame wished to go at once and see this good 
man and his humble home, where Margot had 
passed so many tranquil days. Her heart was over- 
flowing with thanksgiving, and she wished to ex- 
press something of what she felt to this good man. 
So they set out for Simon’s hut, and Margot ran on 
ahead to tell him the 'good news. 

“ Simon ! Simon ! ” she cried, ere she had reached 
the door. “ O dear Simon, such news, such news ! ” 
and she threw her arms about his neck. “ Dost 
know, dost know, that I have seen my mother 
And she is coming, coming to see thee.” 

“ There, there, dear miss, you will blacken your 
pretty dress.” 

“ Dost think I care about the frock ? It is not 
mine at all; it belongs to the governor’s wife. 
Art not glad my mother is come ? ” 

“ I am glad indeed for you.” 

Oh ! thou art a bad Simon, thou hast been cry- 
ing ! O Simon ! ” There was great reproach in 
Margot’s voice, and she was ready to cry herself. 

“Crying! Tut, tut, Simon’s eyes are weak, that 
is all. But what shall Simon do with this untidy 
house He will be so ashamed before those fine 


2i6 


MARGOT 


ladies.” And he jumped up and, throwing his bench 
into a corner, began to brush up the already scrupu- 
lously clean hearth. 

“ Untidy ! Why, it is as clean as a pin,” she said, 
reproachfully. Had she not herself tidied it up that 
morning } 

There was not time for much brushing up, and 
Simon was not quick enough to whisk off his leather 
apron before the room was filled with the happy 
throng. 

Madame went to him, took his toil-stained hand 
in hers and kissed it, while tears stood in her eyes. 
Simon felt ashamed at such praise — unwarranted 
praise it seemed to him. His face was red, and all 
he could say was, “ I did nothing, I did nothing.” 

“ Didst thou not buy her for a bale of tobacco ? ” 
asked Madame, with a smile. 

“ Ah, there it is. If I had not done so, perhaps 
you would have seen your child sooner.” 

“Blame not thyself for that — she might have 
been left in an Indian wigwam to pine and die. 
Thank God that thou sawest her.” 

“Little Majesty Two-shoes, you were a cheap 
bargain,” said Monsieur. 

“ Not so cheap, perhaps, as thou thinkest. On the 
little slip of paper tucked away in the drawer of the 


SHOULD GO BEAUTIFULLY 217 

table it is said that a ransom shall be paid when my 
parents are found.” 

“ And gladly will it be paid,” put in Madame. 

Then Madame had a long, earnest talk with 
Simon in a quiet corner. When she learned that 
there were no ties that bound him to Canada, save 
two lonely graves upon the hillside, she insisted that 
he should go with them, and hereafter consider 
himself one of their family. Simon readily con- 
sented, and he was overjoyed at the prospect of 
always being near his dear miss. He thought how 
needless had been his fears ; how he had spent the 
time of Margot’s absence in bewailing his lot in 
having to give up his treasure, and again in chiding 
himself for being so selfish as to want to keep so 
lovely a child in his mean hut, with no one but 
himself to guard her, when her mother, to whom 
rightfully she belonged, must be fairly pining for her. 
Why had he not had faith in the heavenly Father.? 
“ O thou of little faith,” he thought to himself. 



Chapter XXIV 

THE DEATH OF KWASIND 

)HE time of waiting for Sieur Dantier 
was a time of uncertainty, for although 
they were under the protection of the 
• governor, they were Huguenots and 
in a Catholic country. They did not 
know but that at any time some influence might be 
brought to bear upon the King to keep them in 
Canada. 

France sent some of her most rigid and fanatic 
fathers to their new land ; it was generally known 
that the Jesuit fathers were the most zealous in the 
rooting out of the faintest trace of Protestantism. 
Time was not pressed lightly by their energetic feet ; 
they worked day and night. They were a band of 
wonderful men, wonderful in more senses than one. 
Many of them were going about showing by their 
horrible mutilated appearance the tortures they had 
received at the hands of the Indians. Nothing 
made them desist from their efforts in trying to save 



THE DEATH OF KWASIND 219 

the souls of their dusky brothers. They would come 
into the fort one day, and be gone the next, carrying 
their church furniture on their backs. Away into 
the wilds they would go, perhaps never to be heard 
from again, perhaps to die excruciating deaths. 
How they struggled, hoped, prayed, worked, and 
suffered ! Frozen by the cold winds from the North, 
exhausted by the heat of the South, tortured with 
pine splinters and subjected to other barbarous 
cruelties, they still pressed on and on, and their 
cross was to be found in the extreme West 
and South where no other white foot had yet 
trod. 

How much those men are to be admired for their 
great courage ! Bravery is always admired and 
emulated, no matter how rash, fanatic, or even wrong 
the motive may be that stimulated the act. Of the 
many that suffered death, no annals remain to tell. 

But however vigilant they were, Margot was sur- 
rounded by friends no less so, and Father Andree 
was not the least of these; he did not intend any 
more injury should befall the little maiden if human- 
ity could prevent it. Father Andree was not of the 
Jesuit order, and he had grown so fond of her that 
he was content to see her happy again. He was 
liberal enough — too much so for Canada — to 


220 M! ARGOT 

leave her soul’s welfare to the care of the heavenly 
Father. 

It was beautiful in Canada now. Flowers peeped 
up here and there, dotting the landscape, and making 
it look like an immense flower garden, where but a 
little while ago snow had been in deep drifts. It 
was as if Nature, like a good housewife intent upon 
getting her house in perfect order after a hard win- 
ter, had called in the services of her attendants. 
First she sent the West Wind, who with his mouth 
puffed and blew until he had swept away all the 
brown leaves and twigs that littered the corners. 
Then she begged the big clouds to open and drop 
down their moisture, and so scrub away the riffraff, 
and open up the hard pores of her land. She had 
to coax many times before the gentle showers fell, 
for they were reluctant to give up their big drops. 
Lastly she asked old Sol to shine, and shine so that 
all little creeping growing things hidden in their snug- 
geries should grow warm and send up their tender 
shoots and blossoms, and so carpet her house for her. 
Now the witness of all this scrubbing and drubbing 
was in the beauty of the country far and near. 

Margot and her mother took long walks through 
the country, but with some escort other than Nep- 
tune, for there was always some one glad to go and 


THE DEATH OF KWASIND221 


point out its hidden beauties ; sometimes Monsieur 
d’Albert when he could slip away (he was a much 
feted man), sometimes Simon, but oftener Pierre. 
These walks answered a double purpose; they 
helped to employ the time of waiting, and at the 
same time gave Margot an opportunity to study 
the flowers growing so abundantly about. 

One day Monsieur and Margot walked quite a 
distance from the fort. They sought the woods 
and fallow places, for the day was warm. Monsieur 
as they walked related many a tale of Indian lore which 
he had heard from different tribes of the red men. 
Unexpectedly they chanced upon an Indian’s camp. 
It was situated on a high point overlooking the sea. 
There, stretched upon his blanket, lay an Indian. 
He was emaciated and worn, and death stared him 
in the face. So Margot came upon her enemy. 
Great Chief Kwasind. Now there was no fear in 
her heart, if there ever had been any, only a great 
overwhelming pity, great enough to forgive any 
wrong done to her. Kwasind knew her at once, 
and when she looked at him, turned away his face. 
When Monsieur saw that the Indian’s hold upon 
life was almost gone, he conquered his anger, which 
he had heretofore kept from cooling. Perhaps the 
pity he saw on Margot’s face helped him. 


222 


MARGOT 


“ So, so, even so, must an Indian die a lingering 
death who molests children,” he simply said in the 
Indian tongue, and with a grunt as stolid as the 
Indian’s own, he was walking away. 

Margot begged him to stop and see if he could 
not help the poor suffering man. He could not 
resist her pleading, and did what he could. He 
took a small medicine case from his pocket, and ad- 
ministered some simple remedy. Desire d’ Albert 
always carried this packet of ordinary remedies in 
case of just such an emergency as this. In this 
land of few doctors, every man was his own doctor 
or surgeon. 

Monsieur asked Kwasind where he had been. 
He answered that he had been to the land of ice 
and snow; away where the polar bear swims and 
the brown seals make their home. There he had 
been lost amid the awful whiteness, and, separated 
from his clan, wandered day after day. At last he 
had reached here, but not before disease had 
gripped him with her iron hands. Now he awaited 
the end. 

This was not the only visit Monsieur and Margot 
paid him. Monsieur took him under his care, and 
supplied his wants until the end came. Margot brought 
him choice bits from the governor’s table to tempt 


THE DEATH OF KWASIND223 

his failing appetite. But in a few weeks he died, 
his death made easy by her whom he had harmed. 

He accepted everything done for him in a stoical 
way, only once saying : “You heap good, you heap 
good. Great Father good. Chief tired.” 

Now I have a pleasant thing to relate; also won- 
derful, so it seemed to Margot. It was the coming 
of Babette. 

One morning when they were all at the breakfast 
table, she walked in unannounced, to the horror of 
the domestics. She looked as if she had but just 
gotten up, as staid, as neat, and as matter of fact as 
she was ever known to be ; her hair so smooth, 
and her dress so fresh ; not a hair out of place nor 
a ruffle disarranged; Babette, who was thought to 
be safe and at ease at Vrouw Van der Hoef’s. 

Monsieur d’Albert, ever considerate of all, had 
managed to send her word of the finding of her 
nursling and of the arrival of Madame. Knowing 
they were together, the longing to see them both 
was too much for the old dame. She thought 
that what Margot could stand she certainly could 
also. So she started with a party coming North. 

What she endured was to be found upon her face 
only, for to have come so immaculate out of that 


MARGOT 


224 

long tramp, she must have carried a change of cloth- 
ing on her back. What sights she saw or what 
hardships she endured no one ever knew, for upon 
being questioned she would always say : 

“ Mon Dieic ! mon Dieu ! I cannot talk of it — 
this dreadful country ! ” 

Her delight at seeing her mistress and her “dear 
heart ” knew no bounds. While she expressed her 
joy in terms of endearment to them both, she openly 
bewailed her neglect of Margot in letting her go 
alone into the woods. Madame had no word of 
blame for Babette when she pleaded for forgiveness. 
She soothed and comforted her, even praised her 
for her bravery in coming upon such a trip. Her 
mother’s heart made her understand what the old 
nurse had passed through. 

Now was indeed a time of rejoicing, for it hap- 
pened that that day the dear father also arrived. 
They all said that Babette was the harbinger of 
good luck. 

They set sail immediately for New York. Mon- 
sieur quietly had had everything in readiness to start 
the moment the Sieur should come, for he deemed 
it wiser to be out on the ocean toward a harbor of 
safety than to stay any longer than necessary in the 
enemy’s country. 


Chapter XXV 

MARGOT AGAIN DANCES THE GAVOT 

NCE again they were all together at 
Vrouw Van der Hoef’s cozy home, 
Margot seated on the stoop, sur- 
rounded by a group of children, ever 
clamoring to hear again her adven- 
tures. To Jan, Mick, Hannah, and the others, she 
was a source of wonderment and secret admiration. 
Had she not had a thrilling experience and come 
out of it unscathed ? 

Pierre was at her side. He was always there 
when Uncle Desire had nothing for him to do. 
Margot was gleefully happy, and she wore around 
her neck the beaded chain with the miniature 
attached to it. “ bon Dieu'' had brought 

her safe through her trouble, and in her face there 
was a great happiness and content. All the old 
longings for Paris and home were swept away ; this 
land of abundance was good enough for her. 



226 


MARGOT 


Pierre had been rather soberly listening to the chat- 
ter for a time, and regarding Margot with suspicion. 

“ Margot, did you ever see this ? ” he said, and 
from his pocket he drew a package and, after un- 
wrapping it, produced a curl and a coin. 

“Yes; it was mine,” she replied, unhesitatingly. 
“ I left it for the little boy whose clothes we took from 
the hut near Havre. How didst thou come by it ? ” 

“You dear Majesty Two-shoes you! I thought 
so; and I believe Uncle Desire knew it all the time. 
Well, I ’m the boy that found it, and it is no more 
than just that I should have one-half, and the other 
half, of course, belongs to Captain Maurtaille, who 
left the clothes for you.” 

“ Then there was no boy at all, and Babette was 
right } ” 

“No boy except myself. They were left for you.” 

“ How good of Captain Maurtaille! Thou seest 
I needed them. Babette thought the good Lord 
had sent them to us. She said a poor woman 
would not be so careless as to leave so good a suit 
as that was.” 

“ What have you done with them ? ” 

“ Babette guards them as the apple of her eye 
and has them packed away to show Maman.” 

“ Margot, do put them on, and let us see 


MARGOT DANCES THE GAVOT 227 

you in the boy’s clothes, — do, Margot,” cried the 
children. 

“ No, indeed. They are horrid, but I will ask 
Babette to let you see them some day. I think she 
would better give them to some poor boy to wear, 
do not you ? ” 

There was grave disapproval at this prosaic dis- 
posal of those clothes, one girl even saying, 
gravely : 

“No; you ought to keep them and hand them 
down for your children’s children to see. My grand- 
mother has a chest full of just such relics as that.” 

But Margot thought her mother would think as 
she did, and, after she had seen the suit, make more 
practical use of it than to hide it away for moths 
to destroy. Then the children pleaded to see the 
sabots. 

“ Ces mechants sabots ! Yes, I will get them and 
even put them on for you.” She ran willingly 
and foundithe sabots. Pierre, kneeling before her, 
slipped off the pretty slippers, and soon had the 
sabots in their place. “ I cannot walk very well in 
them, although I once danced the gavot in them.” 

“ Oh, do dance it for us, Margot — do,” cried all 
in a breath. 

“ I do not know whether I can or not, I have 


228 MARGOT 

not danced it for so long, and ’tis not so easy in 
sabots.” 

She took a few steps and then a few more ; 
then with a little laugh she entered into the fun of 
it all, and on and on she danced. Her feet peeped 
in and out from beneath her petticoats, like twink- 
ling stars in the heavens. The children, entranced, 
watched her with a reverence almost awesome in its 
intensity. When she had finished — and as yet the 
children had not expressed their delight in any way 
but by long-drawn-out “ a-a-h’s ” — two men, who had 
been looking over their heads, gently pushed them 
aside. They were Monsieur Desire d’Albert and 
Captain Hezekiah Brown. 

“ Bravo ! bravo ! ” cried Monsieur, as he had done 
on that day so long ago. 

“ T is good for sore eyes to see the way those 
little feet fly about,” interrupted the captain. 
“ Now, if you only had on the trousers, you would 
be again the little boy who came on board the 
‘ Willing Bark,’ and hah! hah! thought them nice 
to walk about in but not pretty — oh, no, not pretty. 
But you have n’t gained many roses that I can see.” 
And he pinched her cheek as if to bring the roses 
out. 

When the older people came to the door there 


MARGOT DANCES THE GAVOT 229 

was much handshaking, for Captain Hezekiah 
Brown had not been into the town since he landed 
that day with his precious load. He was told of 
the episode of Little Majesty Two-shoes and her 
dog. He had had not an inkling of such dire hap- 
penings, and he was beside himself with rage. He 
stormed and blustered for one good hour — in fact, 
he got not over it all day long, and in the midst of 
other things he broke out into mutterings and said : 

“ Ton my soul, if I had known of it some one 
would have got hurt ! ” and much more, with exple- 
tives that were not always nice for little ears to 
hear. 

When they had gone their several ways, Margot 
went to find the sabots to put them away. The 
children had put them on, and many pairs of little 
feet had tried to see if they too could not dance in 
them as Margot did. One she could not find — it 
was lost. Perhaps Master Pierre knew what had 
become of it, and mayhap it had gone to keep com- 
pany with the golden curl and the louis-d’or piece. 
Pierre had made a vow to himself — but many chil- 
dren do that, and must not always be taken seri- 
ously — that when Margot grew old enough, if she 
would consent she should be his little wife, and in 
those days maidens married young. 


MARGOT 


230 

It seems to me that there is a record somewhere 
of a beautiful French maiden, who had been cap- 
tured by the savages as a child, being married at 
the early age of fifteen to the talented nephew of 
the great traveller. Monsieur Desire d’Albert, and 
that her family grew up to be one of the most dis- 
tinguished families of the South. But I cannot 
vouch for the truth of this statement, and, moreover, 
with it we have naught to do, for this is no love 
story. 

Sieur Dantier lived for a few years in Maryland. 
From there he moved to Virginia, where he built a 
beautiful and substantial home. He became an 
extensive land owner, owning many slaves and en- 
tertaining in a royal way. In Virginia the rest of 
Margot’s happy girlhood was passed. 

Here in time there came to be quite a colony of 
old-time friends. Simon Farge, helped by Sieur 
Dantier, hung out a very unpretentious sign over 
the door of a little shop ; and before he closed his 
eyes, after a long and varied life, he had become a 
rich shoe merchant. 

Monsieur d’Albert and Pierre were always Mar- 
got’s most devoted admirers, tending to her every 
wish. It was Desire d’Albert who would say, heav- 
ing a terrible heart-racking sigh ; 


MARGOT DANCES THE GAVOT 231 

“ Ah, if I could only slip off thirty years, your 
chance would be small, my nephew Pierre. You 
lucky dog ! ” 

At which Pierre would make answer : 

“ How about that domestic hearth. Uncle Desire, 
that you have told me about so often? I believe 
there never was one built that could hold you con- 
tented by its side.” 

Margot Dantier was not spoiled by so much adu- 
lation, and she did not disappoint the expectations of 
her dearest friends. Her sweet nature only became 
more refined and lovable from the fire of trouble 
she had passed through, and the devotion that 
marked her womanhood. 







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